Echoes in my mind
by LostinFairyTales
Summary: AU Renowned portal jumper and thief Jefferson had always sworn never to grow too close to anybody: his constant travelling and reckless ways meant he hardly had time for any form of lasting relationship. That was until he became associated with scientist and doctor Victor Frankenstein: and his sister, a girl bound by her engagement but longing for an adventure...
1. Pt 1: Chapter 1

**Title:** Echoes in my mind.  
**Author:** LostinFairyTales  
**Fandom: Once Upon A Time**  
**Rating:** T  
**Pairing: **Jefferson/Elizabeth Frankenstein  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters, they belong to the writers/creators of Once Upon A Time. The only OC character is Elizabeth Frankenstein.

* * *

Jefferson was late: very late, and his business partner did not accept tardiness. Not that it was his fault, Jefferson considered, as he ran through the forest. It wasn't his fault that he had overslept and it was the brunette barmaid who'd started the fight. In fact, it was petty really. All he had done was forgotten her name…and accidentally mistaken her for the other barmaid he'd slept with from that tavern. In his hung-over mind, they all looked the same.

He halted at the door to Rumplestiltskin's castle, catching his breath before straightening up. He ran a hand through his hair and rocked on his heels slightly before pushing open the door with as much vigour as he could manage. Jefferson anticipated his business partner's wrath, but fortunately the imp was facing away from the door, spinning gold. He hadn't appeared to have noticed the portal jumper's arrival.

"What time do you call this?" A sarcastic, yet distinctively feminine voice called.

Jefferson whirled around to see the girl Rumplestiltskin was mentoring, Regina. Somehow her name had stuck, although Regina no longer seemed as innocent and heartbroken as she had when they'd met only a week or so ago. There was a cold determination in her eyes and a presumptuous grin on her face.

"I overslept," He muttered in response, striding past her towards Rumplestiltskin, who still had his back turned to them both.

"Why is there a hand shape on your cheek?"

Jefferson glared at her, quickly rubbing at his cheek. He'd hoped the mark from where the infuriated barmaid had slapped him had gone.

"Did you have a lover's tiff with some barmaid?" Regina asked sweetly, unable to hide her amusement at her jibes.

"Shut up and go make some potions."

Regina opened her mouth to retort, but Rumplestiltskin suddenly snapped a gold thread and the room fell silent.

"Regina, go and fetch the potions book and the necessary ingredients for the disarming potion: Jefferson come here," The imp ordered.

Once Regina was out of the room, Rumplestilstkin spoke again: "I need you to go back to the 'land without colour', as you call it." He ignored Jefferson's sigh at the request, winding more of the golden thread into a basket at his feet.

"But there's nothing there to steal."

"I don't want you steal me anything, I want you to check up on that Victor Frankenstein. I'm rather interested to see if he has successfully managed to resurrect the dead."

Jefferson gave another melodramatic sigh, toying with the hat in his hands as if he was considering whether to defy Rumplestiltskin or not.

"Can't I track down the ruby slippers instead?" He moaned, but judging by the imp's disapproving look, he knew that his fate was sealed.

Reluctantly, he let go of the hat, watching it enlarge in a swirl of purple, before preparing to jump. He stopped at the sound of Rumplestiltskin calling his name, in his usual 'dark one' voice: a horribly high pitched, almost satirical sound. With a devious grin the imp called, "Don't be late again dearie."


	2. Chapter 2

Cursing Rumplestiltskin under his breath, Jefferson made his way up to the Frankenstein residence: a huge castle, which coincidentally, Jefferson noticed, was not too far from a graveyard. He was really beginning to hate coming to this realm, for the lack of colour was horribly draining and he couldn't fathom why anyone would live in a place without magic.

Still, Rumplestiltskin was hardly the right employer to outright disobey, and the scientist could probably do with being checked up on now and again. He knocked on the door, before leaning on a pillar, observing the isolated countryside around the castle.

'_The view could almost be considered scenic_,' he thought,'_if there were some colour in the endless hills and the sky was blue instead of a permanent grey_. '

"Jefferson! Just the person I wanted to see," Victor said, answering the door. His voice sounded suspiciously happy, but also oddly relieved.

Jefferson hoped he wasn't under the illusion that they were friends.

"I'm here on business," he sharply replied, "Rumplestiltskin send me to find out how that little...experiment of yours is going."

Victor's face fell slightly and he murmured lowly: "Not too well I'm afraid."

"Oh?"

Now Victor had caught Jefferson's attention.

"I suppose you should see for yourself."

Victor motioned for him to come inside and Jefferson followed him across the rather grand hallway to a bolted door, although he vaguely recalled the laboratory being down a staircase to the cellars. Instead, they arrived inside what was the castle dungeons. In such a developed and civilised society, they should have been empty, but in the silence Jefferson could hear a growl from behind the bars. Hesitantly, Victor lit the candle above them, filling the room with light. Opposite them sat a man, hunched in the corner of the cell. His clothes, which Jefferson suspected was a uniform, had several rips and tears, and his skin was severely scarred. The prisoner suddenly looked up at them, his face wild with fury.

"That's your experiment? What the hell happened to him?"

"He's my brother. Or he was," Victor sighed, shaking his head. "The heart I chose from that vault must have been from a murderer."

"How do you know that?" Jefferson knew it was pointless asking, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Because as soon as I resurrected my brother, he-" Victor paused, swallowing as he stared straight at the prisoner,"killed our father."

"I'm sorry," Jefferson tried to sound as sympathetic as possible.

Although he knew nothing of what it was to have a family, he knew it must have been pretty horrific for Victor to know his brother murdered his father, all because he'd resurrected him.

"What will you do with him now?" He asked.

"I don't know," Victor admitted, "I tried to shoot him, he even pressed the gun to his forehead for me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

Jefferson placed a hand on Victor's shoulder, suspiciously eyeing the monster that was Victor's brother.

"I'm sure you can find a way to truly bring your brother back," He said soothingly, easily slipping into the little acts he put on. With the right tone of voice and a cheeky smile he could persuade anyone to do anything: almost anyone.

Victor didn't reply, frowning at the portal jumper with uncertainty. But Jefferson's job was done- Rumplestiltskin had told him to gather information on Victor's experiment, not console him.

"Well, you know me, places to go, things to steal," Jefferson announced, taking a step back and pushing open the door. Victor nodded and bolted the door shut behind them, before showing Jefferson to the door and outstretched a hand. Jefferson shook, tipping his hat slightly.

"Before you go, could I ask you a favour?" Victor questioned.

"Just as long as it doesn't involve me getting you another heart."

"No, no, nothing of the sort. I was wondering if you could attend a ball my father was going to host. It's too late to cancel and I intend to keep my father's death as covered up as possible for the moment. But they are always a bore and you did say you were the life and soul of every party?"

Jefferson raised his eyebrows, grinning slightly. He couldn't resist any form of celebration, especially when he was gate-crashing.

"Count me in."


	3. Chapter 3

Cautiously, Jefferson peered around the entrance to the cave. He could just about see inside, where a scaled body was gently rising and falling. It was now or never. Jefferson slipped inside and hurried into the creäture's lair. He was right: it was fast asleep, which made his task a little easier. As quietly as he could manage, Jefferson gingerly stepped closer, before reaching out to grab the item. Despite the egg containing a dragon, it wasn't any larger than a large chicken egg, but it wouldn't fit into Jefferson's bag, so he had to resort to tucking the egg underneath one arm. Suddenly, the dragon's breathing fluctuated, it's nostrils flaring. Startled, Jefferson stumbled backwards, a foot landing on something rounded. He looked down at his foot, which had trodden on the dragon's foot. The creäture gave a moan, one eye snapping open.

"Oh bloody hell!" Jefferson muttered, turning on his heel and running.

He didn't dare look back, praying to the gods that the dragon's sleepiness would give him enough of a head start. The light of the entrance grew brighter, and to his delight he was able to escape the cave alive, a burning ball of flames tailing after him. Jefferson dashed up the hill, setting his backup plan into action. He shoved the pile of rocks and watched them tumble-down the slope and block the cave. That dragon wouldn't be bothering him for a while. Yet Jefferson couldn't shake the smell of burning, twisting around to discover the edge of his coat had set alight.

'_Rumplestiltskin better be pleased,_' he thought as he stamped on his coat with his boot, 't_hat beast almost ruined my best coat_.'

Fortunately, Rumplestiltskin seemed pleased when Jefferson presented him the egg, although he noticed the imp's foul mood from earlier that morning hadn't fully gone away.

"Take as much as you see fit," he'd informed Jefferson with a dismissive wave of his hand, before turning his attention to a set of empty vials, each with a label for a different form of magic.

"Rumplestiltskin?" Jefferson paused, unsure of how to approach the question. He'd never really asked for time off, Rumplestiltskin had always told him when he required Jefferson's services.

"You wish for the evening off, do you not?" Rumplestiltskin said.

"Yes. I do," Jefferson fiddled with his collar, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

"As you have successfully obtained the dragon egg, I suppose you deserve the evening off."

"Thank you," Jefferson gave a small bow, shoving the last few strands of golden thread into his bag.

As he wandered through the forest, Jefferson couldn't quite shake the notion that the imp knew something he didn't. He'd been far too irritable that morning to just let his business partner take the evening off and his devilish smile meant only one thing: Rumplestiltskin had looked into his future again.

_'But of course,' _Jefferson thought, _'he won't tell me what he's seen.'_

* * *

"I think I know why you said this was a bore," Jefferson muttered glumly.

This was the first and last favour he was ever doing for Victor. Everything at the ball was as dull as the black and white realm itself: the orchestra's music was monotone, the guests stood stiffly in groups politely chatting and even the alcohol was weak. Jefferson tapped at his glass before drinking the remaining wine inside.

"I've had to attend one since I was ten," Victor groaned, hastily drinking from his re-filled glass as he waved at another cluster of 'family friends'.

"I swear," he said to Jefferson, "if anyone else asks me about my father's business trip I'll-" Victor paused as the orchestra struck up a more lively tune, couples drifting towards the middle of the hall to dance.

"Speaking of which, are all of your family friends old couples?" Jefferson sighed, watching the dancing, "where are the young, attractive women for me to dance with?"

Victor opened his mouth to reply, when over the music came the sound of someone calling his name. From the crowd came a girl, smiling brightly at them both. Dazed, Jefferson smiled back.

'_As if by magic,_' Jefferson thought. He could still feel himself smiling, even after she had fondly embraced Victor.

"Jefferson, this is Elizabeth, my younger sister."

Elizabeth extended a hand, which Jefferson took. He knew she was probably expecting him to shake it, but instead Jefferson lifted her hand slightly and pressed his lips to Elizabeth's pale skin. Only then did he notice the metal band around her ring finger. He straightened up, hoping his embarrassment wasn't clear on his cheeks. But Elizabeth hadn't seemed to have noticed, laughing softly before teasing Victor:

"None of your other fellow scientists are so charming!"

"Jefferson isn't exactly a scientist," Victor replied, meeting Jefferson's eye with a glare.

"It's a long story," he continued, before Elizabeth could ask any questions, "and you should find your fiancé."

Elizabeth nodded, disappearing into the crowd. Jefferson watched her twist and turn past the dancers, straining to hear her laughter as she was briefly chatted to several guests, before reuniting with a tall, cloaked figure on the far side of the hall. He looked away when she kissed his cheek.

"I probably ought to have warned you," Victor said, "but I thought as she was my sister you would have had the respect to not flirt with her."

With that, he turned away, suddenly very interested in the conversation being held by the two generals stood next to them. Jefferson topped up his wine glass, fixing a grim smile on his face, trying to hide the fact that his pride was just a little wounded by Victor's words. He began contemplating leaving the party and going back to a certain tavern when a hand caught his elbow.

Startled, Jefferson turned to see Elizabeth was behind him.

"I was wondering, would you like to accompany me to the balcony overlooking the gardens?"

"What about your fiancé?" Jefferson asked.

"I've managed to shake him off, for now at least. I wish to talk more with you, if that's alright with you," Elizabeth said, "you seem interesting," She added with a wink.

For a moment Jefferson hesitated. Usually, an engagement ring hadn't stopped Jefferson, but Victor's comment was still on his mind. Taking one last swig of the pathetic excuse for red wine, Jefferson took Elizabeth's arm and began to walk. She led him past the dancers towards a window, connected to a stone balcony. Once they were both outside, Elizabeth closed the window behind them, the music fading away. The early spring air was cooler than Jefferson had anticipated, though it was a welcome relief from the hall, which suddenly seemed to have been very stuffy.

Elizabeth slipped her arm out of Jefferson's, walking over to the railings, before facing him.

"So- are you from that realm Victor visited: the one with all the colours?"Elizabeth asked.

"Indeed, Jefferson figured it was best to tell the truth, as he could hardly deny that he was not colourless like her and Victor.

"From what Victor wrote in his letters to me, it sounds marvellous."

"Oh it is," Jefferson placed a hand on her shoulder.

"And there are other realms out there too, as far as the eye can see," he said, stretching out his other arm and motioning in a semi-circle around them.

"Just today, I was in a realm called 'Middle Earth', where I fought a dragon."

"I don't believe you!" Elizabeth replied, smiling as though she knew that was the exact opposite of what Jefferson had expected to hear.

"If you'd fought a dragon," she deliberated, "then you would surely have some sort of battle wound, or a token of your victory?"

Jefferson turned to face her, bemused at how seriously she was taking his claim. Unlike most, Elizabeth seemed harder to impress, but he liked a challenge. Jefferson responded with one of his infamous grins, yet Elizabeth remained undeterred.

"Perhaps 'fighting' the dragon was a slight exaggeration..." Jefferson admitted.

"Slight?"

"Well, I was stealing its egg, and only a fool would fight a dragon face on. I used a sleeping potion and snuck in whilst the dragon was sleeping," he explained, "although the creäture did damn near burn me to a crisp."

Elizabeth laughed, stopping short as she glanced back behind them towards the ballroom.

"Jump over the ledge," she ordered, pointing to the balcony.

"What?"

"It's not that far off the ground. Now unless you want your blood as the Count's next beverage, I suggest you jump."

"Your fiancé is a vampire?"

"For goodness sake, just jump!" Elizabeth hissed, pushing Jefferson over the ledge.

He deftly landed on the grass below, his fingers keeping his hat firmly on his head. The sound of footsteps grew louder and Jefferson hide beneath the balcony, eavesdropping upon the conversation that drifted down to his ears.

"...just getting some air. No, I was alone." Jefferson heard Elizabeth say rather defensively.

"Come back inside. I hoped we could dance," the Count replied, with an accent Jefferson couldn't quite place.

He waited until their voices had faded away and there was nothing but the silence around him before emerging from beneath the balcony. Jefferson soon found the gate out of the gardens and headed back to the woods, where the steel doors that lead to the hat's hallway awaited him. He stepped through: although Jefferson no longer had any intentions of seeking the company of barmaids and fools to beat at gambling. Not that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Jefferson opened up the cupboard, looking over the potion list before searching the shelves. They were filled with all sorts of ingredients, and it took some time for him to find the necessary items amongst the various vials, bottles and boxes. Gathering what he needed, Jefferson went back to his bench, aware he was being watched by Regina. She was also developing her potions, although her skills were not as advanced as his. Keeping his eyes trained to the instructions, Jefferson prised a unicorn hair from its container, adding two drops of the ogre blood. He knew well that this potion required concentration, yet Jefferson couldn't focus, which he put down to the fact that Regina's eyes were boring into his back, rather than admit that his thoughts were straying to someone else.

"_Unless you want to be the Count's next beverage…" _ Shaking his head, Jefferson ignored Elizabeth's voice.

It was vital that he made the potion successfully: an invisibility potion was difficult to master but Jefferson knew that it would come in handy. He was about to add the final ingredient, the hardest part of all, when a loud crash startled him. Jefferson turned to see a smashed bottle on the floor, a transparent liquid seeping out. Regina had knelt down and tried to pick up the shards, crying out in pain. With a flick of his wrist, the glass and its contents vanished. Regina looked up in surprise.

"You can do magic too?"

Jefferson gave a nonchalant shrug, frowning as a putrid smell wafted over from the direction of Regina's bench.

"No, no, don't do that!" Regina cried, hurrying back to her potion, which had turned a sludge colour and was producing green smoke. The girl was panicking, wafting at the smoke in desperation.

"How much knotweed did you add?" Jefferson choked out, pressing a hand over his mouth as he moved to Regina's bench.

"I don't know!" Regina replied, flicking through her potions book for a remedy.

Jefferson grabbed a vial Regina had left on her table, pouring half of it into the potion. It cleared into the intended blue colour, the fumes stopping.

"Thank you," Regina said, pushing open the window, "you won't tell Rumplestiltskin, will you? About this, or me breaking that bottle?"

Jefferson looked at her, noticing the stray hair that had slipped out of her braid. His eyes strayed down to Regina's chest. Her corset was done so tight; Jefferson found it hard not to stare.

"Of course not," he said.

Regina sighed with relief, slipping back into her seat.

"I can't even do a simple potion!" She said despairingly, "l'll never master potions or magic like you."

"That's not true," Jefferson sat down beside her, gently peeling the hair from her forehead and tucking it behind her ear, "I made plenty of mistakes when I first started. Just ask Rumplestiltskin."

Regina laughed softly, and Jefferson whispered in her ear: "Now do you want me to run through the potion with you?"

* * *

Jefferson hadn't realised just how much time he'd spent helping Regina until he heard the sound of the doors flying open, announcing the return of Rumplestiltskin. Both he and Regina looked up at him rather guiltily as he stood at the doorway. Jefferson suddenly becoming aware that his hand was resting on top of hers, and quickly moved it away, before going back over to his bench.

"I think I can do the potion now, thanks," Regina said, adding a few drops of the knotweed liked he had shown her. She cast a grateful glance at Jefferson as her potion remained blue.

"Excellent Regina, you are improving," Rumplestiltskin commented, walking past them both to close the potions cupboard, before turning his attention to Jefferson's abandoned potion.

"Finish yours Jefferson," He instructed, leaning in slightly before coldly whispering to him, "and don't help Regina again."

Jefferson nodded, feeling both Regina and his business partner's gaze on him as he moved his hand, a small blaze of magic forming inside the bottle. The magic faded away, leaving the potion a silver colour. Regina mouth dropped slightly in amazement, but it was the imp's grin that sent a shiver down Jefferson's spine.

"Very good, very good indeed," Rumplestiltskin said approvingly, "Regina, take your books back to the library and get back to that castle of your husband's."

Regina frowned at the mention of the King, but did as the imp ordered, gathering her books and leaving the potions room.

"Your magic is coming along nicely," Rumplestiltskin continued, "perhaps you'll finally be able to rip out a heart?"

Jefferson didn't answer, shuddering at the thought as Rumplestiltskin began rummaging through the potions cupboard.

"Where is the water from the mermaid cove?" He asked.

"Oh, I knocked it over," Jefferson lied, "I'll go and collect some more if you like?"

"Indeed you will. Take the invisibility potion with you: it's yours to keep."

Jefferson pocketed the invisibility, taking his hat off the hook by the door. He placed it on the floor, twisting it with his wrist before leaping through.


	5. Chapter 5

After successfully collecting more mermaid water from the cove in Neverland, Jefferson had intended to go straight back to the Enchanted Forest. But somehow, once inside the hat, he found himself drawn to the steel door of the land without colour. Jefferson firmly told himself as he stepped through that he was only going for a replacement vial, pushing any thoughts of Elizabeth from his head. It had been hard enough trying to convince the flirtatious mermaids that his lack of attention to their chatter wasn't because he had fallen in love.

_'Love would be an exaggeration anyway, this is merely an infatuation. I don't have time for love,' _ Jefferson thought before muttering aloud one of Rumplestiltskin's mottos:

"Love is weakness."

As Jefferson walked up the drive to the castle, he noticed a horse and carriage were parked outside. He gave a courteous nod to the driver, attempting to vanquish the voice in his head that insisted the carriage was Elizabeth's and that she was in the castle. For a moment, he considered turning back, but he knew Rumplestiltskin would soon notice the missing vial that Regina had broken. He could buy a replacement, but that would be out of his own wages. Stealing was for free, and Victor had plenty of spare bottles in his laboratory.

'_I'll just borrow a vial or two and leave,_'

He knocked on the door, and Igor answered, showing Jefferson to Victor's laboratory. Even in the daylight, the castle seemed to be dull, the dim sunlight only exemplifying the shadows that lingered in every corner. Jefferson stopped for a moment to observe the portrait he'd caught sight of. A man and woman stood in the centre, whom Jefferson guessed were Victor's parents. His father stood rigidly, his steely eyes cool with determination, whereas his mother seemed more kindly, a baby cradled in her arms. By her side stood a young boy, who was clutching his mother's hand, his face an infant version of Victor's. The other child was Elizabeth, knelt down between Victor's parents, whom until then Jefferson had presumed were also her parents. He looked a little closer, frowning slightly in confusion. Elizabeth's features didn't quite match the couple: unlike Victor, whose smile mirrored his mother's. Somehow Elizabeth didn't quite seem to belong, even though they were all in black and white.

"Ah, I see you've noticed," Igor said, "although Miss Elizabeth is considered to be a very close sister to both Victor and his brother Gerhardt, she was in fact adopted, hence her features not matching Alphonse or his wife."

Jefferson nodded and followed Igor through to the laboratory, though he hesitated at the sound of Elizabeth's voice.

"Oh Victor, you make it sound as though it was supposed to be an enjoyable day out."

Igor had slipped inside, busying himself with tiding away equipment, although Jefferson remained in the doorway for a moment, listening to their content chatter. If Victor and Elizabeth weren't brother and adopted sister, Jefferson would almost be convinced they were together, bickering like an old married couple. This illusion was shattered by Elizabeth grabbing a nearby book, bashing it against her brother's arm. He didn't seem to be injured, rather enjoying her playful violence.

'_Maybe that's what it's like to have people care about you: siblings and parents to rely on,'_ Jefferson thought bitterly, clearing his throat to announce his arrival.

"Jefferson! I didn't realise you'd be paying us a visit," Victor said.

Elizabeth looked up, her expression momentarily blank, but a giveaway smile suddenly brightened up her features. She quickly dropped her head back into the book she'd used to attack Victor, her eyes furtively scanning the words. Jefferson didn't fancy making conversation, a rather bashful awkwardness overcoming him. He could feel a hot flush making the back of his neck burn, which he put down to the bright lights of the laboratory, not the fact that Elizabeth kept sneaking glances back up from her book in his direction.

Jefferson drummed his fingers on the metal operating table, realising the current situation hardly allowed him to steal. He couldn't steal right in front of her, so he decided to go for the more honest approach:

"I was just on my way back from a job and was wondering if you have any spare vials I could borrow?"

"By borrow you mean never return?" Victor replied, raising his eyebrows at Jefferson, though his tone seemed more amiable than it had been when they'd last spoken at the ball.

"Yep."

The scientist rolled his eyes, taking an empty vial from a cupboard, which was filled with far different things to that of Rumplestiltskin's cupboards. Where the Dark One collected different types of magic, Victor collected what Jefferson recalled were called 'elements'. Jefferson took the vial from Victor, slipping it into his bag alongside the mermaid water. He nodded in thanks and took a step back to leave, but Victor motioned to a wooden stool, sitting down on one himself.

"Come Jefferson; tell us of today's adventures."

"Yes," Elizabeth chimed in, properly looking up from the book so that her eyes met Jefferson's, "I'm sure you had more fun than me."

Reluctantly, Jefferson sat down on the stool. His charismatic storytelling came easily enough, and soon he had both Elizabeth and Victor enthralled with his embellished tales of the trip to Neverland, telling them of the mysterious Peter Pan and his devoted 'lost boys', as well as the mermaids, fairies and pirates that also inhabited the island where you never aged. He finished the stories by producing the vial of mermaid water, shaking the turquoise liquid until it bubbled.

"Wow," Elizabeth sighed, her face still lit up at the romanticised thoughts of Neverland that Jefferson had conjured, "you really did have a better day than me."

"What was so bad about your day?" Jefferson asked, taking a sip of the tea Igor had brought for them each.

He leant back in his seat, listening with amusement to Elizabeth's rant about having to go and try on her wedding dress, then compare it with the bridesmaid's dresses, before deciding which flowers to have, as the Count wanted lilies, and Elizabeth wanted roses. She revealed the Count won, but only out of her desperation to leave.

"And tomorrow he wants to take me out for more dancing practice!" Elizabeth complained wearily, her shoulder's dropping as she slumped into the chair.

"I can't dance for toffee," she added miserably, "at the ball last week I kept standing on his toes."

Victor had bitten his lip to stop a laugh escaping him, and exchanged a look with Jefferson, who was also smiling at Elizabeth's rather melodramatic pitifulness.

"It's not funny!" She cried, "I'm serious!"

"I'm sure you can dance, you just need the right partner," Jefferson said, winking at Elizabeth.

He was about to add something, when Victor interrupted,

"If you practice a little more with the Count, then you may find dancing easier- and aren't vampires renowned for being excellent dancers?"

"Yes and Elizabeth Frankenstein's are not!" She muttered, sighing as she glanced at the clock, "I better get going; you know the Count hates having to wait."

Elizabeth pocketed the book she'd been reading, and gave her brother a brief hug before dashing off up the stairs. Jefferson waited until her footsteps had fully faded before announcing he also needed to go, claiming Rumplestiltskin was expecting him.

To his surprise the carriage was still on the driveway, and Elizabeth was stood on the porch, her arms folded to combat the cold wind.

"I thought the Count would be here?"

Elizabeth shook her head, her breath misting between them as she exhaled.

"He always arrives five minutes late, because he knows I take five minutes to actually leave." Elizabeth laughed, before adding, "I figured you wanted to say something earlier, but Victor stopped you."

"I was going to offer you a dance with me. I like to think of myself as a fairly decent dancer: waltz, tango, polka, you name it, I can teach you."

"Well then, I suppose I accept your offer." Elizabeth said, letting out a startled cry as Jefferson grabbed her hand and spun her around.

Her foot caught the other and she stumbled into him, her head hitting his chest. She rested there for a second, and Jefferson couldn't help but to put his arm around her back to support her, his fingers catching her bare shoulder. Suddenly, Elizabeth hurriedly backed away, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath.

"I'm so sorry!" She gasped, "I told you I couldn't dance."

"Don't worry about it," Jefferson said, hastily retracting his hand from her arm at the clatter of horse hooves approaching the house.

"Maybe we can have the dance lesson some other time?" Elizabeth said, glancing behind to where the carriage had been parked, the Count's low voice just about audible.

"I should probably go," she added, hurrying down the stone steps before Jefferson had a chance to say goodbye.

He watched the grey drizzle splatter her dress until she rounded the corner and vanished from sight. But he could imagine her clambering into the carriage, the Count there to greet her, to hold her the way he couldn't, to talk to her without having to hide. Jefferson knew Elizabeth wasn't even his to want, that he wasn't even supposed to have led her on in the first place.

'_You just couldn't stop yourself, could you?_' He thought resentfully, stepping out into the rain. Jefferson wished for a way out, a door he could step through that would take him back to a time when he had never even known of Elizabeth's existence. As he re-entered the hat's hall of doors, Jefferson swore to himself he would never go back through, never say another word to her.

But Jefferson never could keep any of his promises.


	6. Chapter 6

By the time Jefferson had arrived at Rumplestiltskin's castle, night was already falling and Regina had long since left the castle. There was a faint glow of gold from under the door to the potions room, meaning that Rumplestiltskin was still awake. The imp gave a brief nod as Jefferson entered, though he turned his back almost immediately, allowing Jefferson to surreptitiously replace the broken vial and slip the mermaid water back into its place on the shelf.

"How are those experiments of Victor's going? Has he made his monster?" Rumplestiltskin asked suddenly, startling Jefferson, though he knew by now not to be surprised by Rumplestiltskin seeming to know where he'd been even without Jefferson telling him.

"He has indeed successfully resurrected the dead…" Jefferson began, trailing off slightly.

'_What I am meant to tell him? Oh yes, but then the monster murdered their father._'

"But?" Rumplestiltskin said, finally turning to properly acknowledge Jefferson. His voice had risen dangerously high, and Jefferson knew he had piqued the imp's interest.

"But," Jefferson continued, "the patient, his brother, seems to have gained some violent qualities..." Jefferson hesitated, rather hoping he didn't have to go on.

Even if he didn't have a father of his own, he could still imagine the horror of the events. However Rumplestiltskin was listening attentively, his small form somehow looming over Jefferson, forcing him to add:

"He murdered their father."

"Oh," The imp muttered, without a hint of compassion, "yet Victor did successfully resurrect the dead, albeit with some undesired features?"

Jefferson gave a shrug, clasping his hands together.

"That hardly matters as his funds run out at the end of the month, and with no money, he cannot salvage his monster."

Rumplestiltskin gave a giggle, and with a snap of his fingers he was holding a bulging pouch.

"Well you know that money is hardly an issue when you work for me."

He handed Jefferson the pouch, smiling at the portal jumper's confused look.

"Yes, Victor does work for me, though not directly like you," Rumplestiltskin added, "I am...invested in his work. Therefore, in addition to retrieving items for me, I would like you to visit the dear doctor every few days, find out how his work is developing and pass on funds from me."

Jefferson wanted to protest, conscious of the vow he'd made, but he knew there was no use arguing with Rumplestiltskin. Not when the imp had made up his mind.

* * *

For once, the weather in the land without colour seemed to be pleasant, the first few rays of spring sunshine making the bleak realm look somewhat brighter. On arriving at the Frankenstein castle, Jefferson decided to take a more scenic route up to the castle, wandering into the vast gardens that the house overlooked. He couldn't help but to admire the well-tended to plants, with flowers that were beginning to uncurl their petals, the last few droplets of dew cocooned on the broad leaves.

He continued on, though Jefferson got the sense that he was straying further away from the castle, rather than towards it. In black and white, everything looked the same. Disgruntled, he turned another corner of the maze of plants to find Elizabeth, sat reading on a wooden bench, her head buried in a book. Jefferson attempted to step back and get away before she realised his arrival, but something snapped underneath the weight of his foot. Elizabeth's head jerked up, the startled look in her eyes reminding Jefferson of a deer.

"Jefferson! You didn't just appear in your hat did you?" Elizabeth said.

"No, no. I've been wandering through this garden trying to get to the castle, only I'm a little lost."

Jefferson's eyes trailed down to the grass, where a trowel and some seeds lay beneath the bench. Elizabeth followed his gaze.

"I do a bit of the gardening," she explained, "as this is my part of the garden. If you want to go up to the castle, it's about four hundred yards north from here, past the lavender bushes. But if Victor isn't expecting you, which I must say he never seems to, maybe you could stay here a while?"

Jefferson did as she requested, sitting down beside her, the worn novel resting between them. He squinted slightly at the small text, though it was impossible to read from a distance. Elizabeth picked up the book and closed it to so that he could see the cover, before placing it on his lap. He stared the spiralled letters that spelt out the title and author, though his lips couldn't form the words they produced. Hesitantly, Jefferson flicked through the pages, aware that Elizabeth was probably expecting him to read the title. He kept his head bowed, unable to look her in the eye, unable to admit it to her.

"You can read, can't you?" Elizabeth asked bluntly.

Jefferson remained silent, his fingers toying with the edge of the page. For a moment neither of them spoke, until Elizabeth announced:

"It's around the world in eighty days by Jules Vernes."

Jefferson nodded, suddenly rising and handing the book back to her.

"Look I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I wasn't trying to-"

He waved away her apology, walking back towards the castle without turning to face her.

"I could teach you."

Jefferson stopped. Elizabeth ran to catch him and stood in front, squinting under the sunlight as she looked him in the eye.

"You teach me to dance, and I'll teach you to read?" She offered, adding, "do we have a deal?"

"Deal," Jefferson said decisively, before he could change his mind.


	7. Chapter 7

As they walked up to the castle, Jefferson strayed behind, his thoughts wandering as his pace slowed. He made a point of observing the plants, though his thoughts were really elsewhere, in a place Jefferson hadn't been to in years. He shuddered slightly at one particular memory, hurrying back up the path to where the unsuspecting Elizabeth was waiting.

_'You have to tell her; else she'll think you're a complete imbecile_.'

"I didn't have any parents to teach me to read," Jefferson said sombrely.

"I know," Elizabeth replied, her voice devoid of any empathy towards him. "Victor said you were an orphan, like I was."

"Well, I was taught to read a little at the orphanage, but only the basics. And that was years ago, I've never really needed to read, I mean, I can recognise my name and phrases," Jefferson rambled, as though he could talk himself out of seeming like an illiterate imbecile.

"After all, portal jumping hardly comes with an instruction book," he joked, relieved at the sound of Elizabeth's melodic laughter that didn't appear to be at his expense.

"Look, I know you're not stupid- you have a way with words and a wicked tongue," Elizabeth said winding her arm through his when Jefferson had caught back up with her, "orphanages are awful, regardless of what realm you are in."

"I thought you were adopted?"

"Not at birth. I spent the first seven years in an orphanage," she explained, hurriedly withdrawing her arm as they approached the castle doors.

Elizabeth pushed the door open before calling Victor's name. There was no reply.

"You know, we could get started with your reading lesson now?" She suggested; the door creaking shut behind Jefferson as he stepped inside.

"What about your fiancé? Don't you need to continue your wedding plans?"

Elizabeth sighed, an injured look on her face. She didn't reply, instead she turned on her heel and set off down the narrow staircase towards Victor's laboratory. Jefferson followed, bemused at why his words seemed to have offended her. Their arrival startled Victor, papers flying from his desk as he rose from his chair to greet Jefferson.

"What are you doing?" Jefferson asked, unable to ignore the bags under the doctor's eyes and his lethargic movement.

"Trying to find a cure for my br-patient." Victor muttered, correcting himself at the sight of Elizabeth before slumping back into the chair.

His fingers massaged his temple and he began to sort through the mass of papers. From what Jefferson could see, they appeared to be covered in Victor's sloped writing, his annotations detailing various diagrams and equations.

"Where is this patient of yours?" Elizabeth asked, picking up the sheets on the floor and handing them to her brother.

"It doesn't matter!" Victor snapped, slamming his hand down on the desk, "none of it matters; I have no money to continue. The experiment is a failure," his voice had become strangled, and Victor placed his head on the papers, a sharp sob escaping him.

"That's not true," Jefferson took the pouch from his pocket and set it down in front of Victor. The doctor raised his head, his reddened eyes widened at the sight of the bulging money bag.

"It appears you have a benefactor- Rumplestiltskin," Jefferson continued, "and he will continue paying you until you succeed."

Victor sat up at his words, his evident fatigue vanishing.

"This is excellent! There is still a chance I can save him." Victor cried, ecstatic, suddenly embracing Jefferson before placing a kiss on Elizabeth's forehead.

"Indeed," she agreed, "now Jefferson, there is something I wish to show you," Elizabeth outstretched her hand for him to take, her fingertips brushing his skin.

She snapped them away when Victor demanded:

"And where do you think you're going with him?"

"The library," Elizabeth retorted. "What is wrong with that?"

"What is wrong is that you appear to be spending every minute you can with a man you've known for all of a fortnight, when you are to be married to another in less than two months!" Victor said, raising his voice.

His attention shifted from his sister to Jefferson. He gave the portal jumper a hostile glare as he added:

"You barely know him. You don't know what secrets he keeps."

"Oh and you do?" Elizabeth shot back.

* * *

Jefferson watched as their arguing continued, absent-mindedly picking up a nearby operational instrument as he waited for them to finish.

He knew he should probably intervene, but Jefferson felt that both Elizabeth and Victor had forgotten his presence entirely, completely absorbed in their acrimonious row. Jefferson jumped at the sound of the laboratory door slamming shut. He looked around to see Elizabeth was the one who had stormed off, leaving a shamed Victor stood behind his desk.

"I'm sorry that you had to witness that," he apologised.

"I'm the one who ought to apologise," Jefferson said, "I'm the reason you two were rowing."

Victor gave a bitter laugh at that, shaking his head.

"No, you are not. Elizabeth and I have been on edge for a while now: what with my work, her upcoming marriage and now the 'disappearance' of Gerhadt and our father," with a despondent sigh, Victor continued, "Elizabeth is very...confused as of late. She does not want to be made to marry the Count, and is angry at me for not helping her get out of the arrangement. Elizabeth doesn't understand that all I want is the best for her. She is young and naïve- she doesn't fully know what she wants. I hope you won't take advantage of that."

"Of course not," Jefferson replied, '_Reading and dancing lessons are perfectly innocent._'

He thought over Victor's words for a moment, a sudden realisation confusing him.

"You haven't told Elizabeth about what happened to your father- or that your patient is your brother?"

Victor gave a sheepish shrug.

"No: I can't. If she finds out about their deaths, the few strands of our relationship will break entirely."

"But you have to take responsibility for what you've done," Jefferson urged, "surely it would be better for Elizabeth to hear what has happened from you than for her to find out for herself?"

"I can't tell her: and you won't either," Victor said, "if you do, I'll tell the Count that you have been romancing his betrothed. You do not want to get on the wrong side of vampires.

Jefferson swallowed hard, pushing his momentary fears aside as he grinned at the doctor.

"Blackmailing me? I'm impressed. Now, I have business to attend to," he strode past Victor, opening the door to the cellar staircase.

"Does that business involve my sister?" Victor called after him.

Jefferson didn't reply.

The hallway was silent; the grey walls, ceiling and floor making the room feel like a prison as Jefferson went towards the front door. He stopped by the grand staircase, looking up to the landing in the hope of catch sight of Elizabeth. But she wasn't there, and Jefferson had no clue where the library she'd intended to show him was. He lingered for a minute or so, though still nobody appeared and Jefferson continued on. Laughter drifted in through an open window, a fluttering echo that resonated in his ears. Jefferson cast a glance through the window, immediately regretting it.

Out on the drive was the Count, and for the first time Jefferson could see him properly. The land's lack of colour paled him completely, contrasting to his dark clothes that draped around his gaunt figure. But that was not what Jefferson was really observing. His focus was pinpointed on the young woman by his side, with her sweet laughter that he couldn't fail to recognise. Elizabeth. Her arm was linked through the Count's the way it had been with his only an hour ago. They were walking down towards the garden.

_'No doubt they'll go to Elizabeth's part of the garden. They'll sit on the bench we were sat at,'_ Jefferson thought, Victor's words flitting into his head:

'_She doesn't fully know what she wants_.'

Suddenly Elizabeth's head turned as she looked back towards the house. She caught Jefferson staring, her eyes locking onto his for a second. With that Elizabeth continued on, engaged in her chatter with the Count once again. Jefferson waited until they were far enough into the garden before slipping out of the castle.


	8. Chapter 8

With a sigh of relief, Jefferson slumped into his seat by the burnt out fire, watching the last few embers fade away. Rumplestiltskin had finally left for the day's business, giving Jefferson a few hours rest from his constant questioning. All morning Jefferson had tried to pass off his half-hearted attempts of magic as the result of a rather heavy hangover, but the imp didn't believe a word. He had made more mistakes over the last few days than when he'd been the fourteen year old pick pocket that didn't know the first thing about magic. The imp was more than slightly suspicious of his behaviour, but not as amused as Regina, whom was glad that Rumplestiltskin's attention was focused on Jefferson rather than her.

"Who wants to rip out a bloody heart anyway?" Jefferson muttered to himself, scowling as he recalled the events of that morning.

He hadn't seen Rumplestiltskin be that frustrated at him in a long time. The imp had been unable to contain his annoyance at his business partner's inability to remove and crush a heart. After watching Jefferson unsuccessfully remove the human's heart for the fifth time, Rumplestilstkin had stamped his foot childishly as he yelled at Jefferson:

"But you've done it before. Sometimes it's kill or be killed."

And Jefferson had wanted to do it: especially with a smirking Regina observing far away enough to avoid the imp's wrath and his own irritation fuelling him as he gave one last try. But there was still no beating heart in his hand. Rumplestilstkin had left the castle in a darker mood than ever and instructed Jefferson to mull over his failings and find what was preventing him.

A loud crunch startled Jefferson from his thoughts. Leaning against the wall was Regina, a half-eaten apple held in the palm of her hand.

"You're in love, aren't you?" Regina asked, taking another bite out of the apple, watching for his reaction.

"Don't you have spells to be working on?"

Regina ignored him, turning the chair next to his before settling down in it opposite him.

"You can't deny it: I know what it's like to be in love," she continued, her tone growing wistful as she added:

"How it feels- how you can't concentrate on anything, how nothing really matters except for them…how disappointed they'd feel if they knew you'd been ripping out hearts!"

Jefferson rolled his eyes at her teasing, though her words did make sense. Elizabeth would hate to think of him as a murderer.

Pushing her from his mind, Jefferson noticed that Regina was also lost in her own thoughts, her eyes taking on a vacant look. She quickly snapped out of it and proceeded to question him:

"So, who is it? Can't just be any old barmaid."

"It's complicated."

"Most relationships are," Regina said.

She placed the apple core on her lap before leaning in slightly as if she was about to whisper something to him.

"You can tell me. Your secret is safe with me."

Jefferson hesitated. He figured Regina still owed him after the potions disaster but more importantly that she wouldn't stop pestering him until he told her something.

"Her name is Elizabeth…" Jefferson began.

* * *

He had intended to keep as much as possible from Regina, but Jefferson found himself recounting the whole tale to her, from meeting Elizabeth at the ball to when he had last seen her with the Count.

"So basically you've fallen for some seemingly innocent yet rather manipulative little bookworm, who can't choose between a thief and a vampire and is the adopted sister of that wizard you took me to? But best of all you are insanely jealous of a vampire!" Regina ridiculed.

"Look, are you just going to tease me or help me?"

"Of course I'll help. If you really love her, you'll find a way."

"Cryptic clichés aren't helping Regina. Just tell me how to get rid of these ridiculous feelings before Rumplestiltskin turns my hat into a pile of ashes!"

Regina thought for a moment before saying:

"I think you should take up those reading lessons she's offered you, because firstly I can't believe you can't read, and secondly, you can find out just what's going on with her and the Count."

* * *

The thunder gave another ominous crackle, the air buzzing with a strange sense of energy. Dark clouds had gathered over the treetops, and Jefferson had no idea whether he had arrived in the land without colour at midnight or midday. He continued on, a sudden flash of lightning electrifying the sky. Jefferson could just see the castle through the fog, and exited the forest. Before Jefferson even had a chance scarper back and hide under the shelter of the trees, the rain began to pour. Huge droplets hit him as he ran towards the castle, his coat growing heavy as it became saturated with water. But the sudden downpour didn't cease: sheets of rain bouncing off the gravel like sparks, individual droplets stabbing at his bare neck.

Eventually Jefferson reached the porch, sliding his arms out of his soaked coat. He rang the doorbell, the bell clanging against the rumble of thunder, before brushing the water off his trousers and wiping away a stray droplet that ran down his cheek. The door swung open and Jefferson found himself face to face with Elizabeth.

"What a pleasant surprise!" She said, motioning for Jefferson to come in.

"Victor's busy working; apparently the weather is perfect for his experiments."

As she chatted, Elizabeth took Jefferson's coat and boots, hanging the coat up to dry and placing the boots beneath the hook.

"Are you here to visit him again?"

"I was rather hoping we could have that reading lesson you promised me?"

Elizabeth brightened at that, showing him up the staircase to the landing. As she led him down the lavishly decorated corridor, Elizabeth pointed out each room until they reached the final door.

"This is the best room of all-" she announced, carefully easing the door open. Her voice dropped to a low whisper: "the library."

Jefferson stepped inside. Elizabeth had begun to light a few of the candles, and the musty room was filled with the orange candlelight.

From what Jefferson could see, every wall appeared to be lined with bookshelves, each book covered in a film of dust. The walls extended into the darkness, the piles of books seemingly endless.

"Don't you get claustrophobic?" He asked, though Elizabeth was too far down the library, lighting more candles, to hear him.

Jefferson pulled out a book, his hands faltering under its weight. A cloud of dust billowed out and he began to cough.

"You might want to start with something easier than an unabridged Oxford university English dictionary!" Elizabeth said, carefully taking the book from his, cradling it like a new-born child before sliding it back onto the shelf.

The whole library was illuminated now, and the vast room really was filled to the brim with books, the shelves stopping only to make room for the windows. Outside the lightning still lit up the sky, the faint drumming of rain echoing through the glass. Elizabeth sat down at desk, pulling up another seat for Jefferson. On the desk were various papers, held in place by a stone. Upon seeing him looking at them with interest, Elizabeth quickly scooped up the papers.

"So, where shall we start? How about the alphabet? Or is that too trivial?"

"No the alphabet's fine."

Elizabeth wrote out the alphabet, twenty-six printed letters filling up the page. At the bottom she added his name.

"Jefferson," he read. Elizabeth's delighted smile made him feel just a little prouder; though he knew it was hardly an achievement.

* * *

With a little guidance from Elizabeth, Jefferson soon grasped the alphabet, the lessons he'd had as a child flooding back. He hadn't even realised how much time had passed until the grandfather clock they had passed in the hallway let out seven gongs.

"I thought it read four when we arrived?" Jefferson said, rubbing at his eye, realising just how tired he'd become.

"They say time flies when you're having fun."

"If you knew time as well as I did, you wouldn't say that," he muttered darkly.

Elizabeth had disappeared down one of the aisles of books, and sensing their lesson was over, Jefferson headed towards the hallway.

Elizabeth re-appeared at the other end of shelf, side-stepping Jefferson so that she was in front, though she was the one who closed and locked the library door behind them.

"It's probably best if you don't tell Victor I let you in the library."

Jefferson nodded in agreement, though he felt a little uneasy about making so many promises to keep secrets. Elizabeth's request prompted the question he'd been meaning to ask:

"This vampire fiancé of yours, do you…love him?"

Elizabeth didn't reply; her intent gaze at Jefferson daring him not to look away.

"Do you really think I'd accept dancing lessons from you and be teaching you to read if I did?" She said softly, her hands somehow finding their way into winding around his.

The cold metal band stung his skin, but Jefferson ignored its warning. He'd been doing things he shouldn't for far too long to listen to his conscience.

He kissed Elizabeth.


	9. Chapter 9

The final lightning bolt of that evening lit up the sky, an electric flash amongst the darkened clouds. For a moment the rain stopped, the thunder fading away, replaced by the loud crackle of lightning.  
Whether it was the sound of the lightning so close to them, or something else, Jefferson wasn't certain, but suddenly Elizabeth pulled away. She shrank away from him, her face an unreadable mix of emotions. Elizabeth gave an involuntary shiver, and Jefferson too felt the sudden chill of the empty hallway. He could still feel the numb sensation of her lips on his, though the taste had gone sour. The brief eternity she'd given him was shattered.

Shakily, Elizabeth said:  
"Why?"

It was only one word. But Jefferson had no answer. He was still reeling from their kiss: his thoughts were an unravelled mess. Snippets of their conversations, Victor's warnings and Regina's teases all replayed in his head, their meanings becoming distorted. Jefferson closed his eyes, willing for his mind to clear so that he could say something, anything, in response to Elizabeth.

"Your words...about our reading lesson...I thought you meant, that you didn't," Jefferson paused before clearing his throat, "love him."

"Of course I don't," Elizabeth murmured, taking a hesitant step in Jefferson's direction. Her arms remained folded, an invisible barrier kept between them.

"My father arranged my marriage to him. I've been betrothed since I turned sixteen, though I cannot marry him until I become eighteen,"  
Elizabeth seemed to grow stronger as she spoke, her tone filled with anger as she continued:  
"For almost two years I've been trapped, with no chance of freedom: instead awaiting my prison sentence to a life as the housewife of a vampire."

Jefferson wanted to reply, but he couldn't utter a word of consolation. His mouth was dry, any act of showmanship deserting him.

"So, do you...love me?"

Elizabeth gave a sigh, but she inched a little closer.

"We've only known each other for two weeks. I'm to be married in under two months," she said monotonously, echoing Victor.

Her lips remained closed, though Jefferson saw the look on her face, the sadness in her eyes that filled him with a twisted guilt.

"I don't know how I feel," Elizabeth confessed.

She was close enough for Jefferson to reach out and touch; but he resisted the temptation to feel her skin against his fingers, softer than the velvet of his beloved hat.

"Right now, I think we both ought to get some rest. It's been a long day," she announced.

_'And one hell of a night,"_ Jefferson mentally added, nodding in agreement.

"I suppose I'll see you soon?" Jefferson said, though he knew he didn't need to ask. They both knew it was more of a statement than a question.

"I suppose," Elizabeth replied, a half smile playing upon her lips.

Her forlorn face lit up enough to seem to glow in the evening's enclosing shadows. That was all Jefferson needed to forget about the Count, about the scientist working beneath their feet, about all of little complications. Regina was right: Elizabeth was all that mattered.

* * *

Over the following few weeks, Jefferson found himself settling into a routine: travel the realms and steal for Rumplestiltskin, every couple of days visiting Victor to enquire about his experiments, fool Victor into believing he went straight back to Rumplestiltskin, and the imp into believing he had 'other business', so that he could go to the library and spend his afternoons with Elizabeth.

Even though Jefferson preferred a more spontaneous lifestyle, he couldn't help but slip into the routine easily; slowly growing more and more fond of the black and white realm that was quickly becoming a second home to him. But Elizabeth's imminent wedding loomed over him, their secrets lurking in the back of his mind. As much as he enjoyed the intimate moments he shared with Elizabeth, hidden unbeknownst to the world in the library, Jefferson felt as though every minute was tainted.

"Jefferson, are you even listening?" Elizabeth asked, leaning back in her chair as she raised any eyebrow, looking more than slightly unimpressed.

She gave a small smile to try to remove the frown from Jefferson's face, though his forehead remained furrowed. He was still lost in his own thoughts. Elizabeth tugged her chair closer to his, leaning in and placing a finger on his chin to adjust his head so that he was looking straight at her.

"Whatever it is that's worrying you Jefferson, tell me."

He could hear the concern in Elizabeth's voice, but Jefferson hesitated to confide in her. It wasn't just the prospect of Elizabeth's marriage that was concerning him. The promise he'd made to Victor still stood, and Victor had been keeping Jefferson posted on the progress he'd been making. Jefferson knew that the doctor had been experimenting even more on his brother, determined to resurrect him with his personality intact. The fact that he kept Gerhadt hidden from Elizabeth, kept her under the illusion that her brother was still serving in the Army and their father was away and alive, was troubling Jefferson.

"Nothing," he muttered, pulling away from Elizabeth, though it was too late: he couldn't resist. Pushing away the thoughts that lingered, Jefferson placed a sneaky kiss on the tip of her nose. She didn't mind his affections: they had inextricably become part of their secret meetings.

"Hey! We're here to read, not do that," Elizabeth pretended to scold him, the smile that brightened her face telling a different story.

She rested a hand on his before rising from her seat and heading off down the aisles of books. Jefferson awaited her return impatiently, every minute was precious. Soon enough Elizabeth was back, her arms filled with more dusty books, which she placed on the desk with a sigh.

"How about we try something a little more…familiar?" Elizabeth suggested.

Wiping away a layer of grime, Jefferson read the title aloud, unimpressed:

"Traditional fairy tales?"

He looked up at Elizabeth.

"You know these are real right? I live in the same realm as them; it isn't called 'the enchanted forest' for no reason, although," Jefferson continued, hoping to distract her: "maybe I will take you there someday? You could see a world filled with colour: more vibrant than you could possibly imagine, in every shade under the sun."

She laughed at that, the disbelieving look in her eye almost masking the hope that shone through, her eyebrows raised as if to question whether Jefferson truly meant it.

"Come on," Elizabeth said, sliding the book towards Jefferson in an attempt to persuade him to begin reading, "I used to love these as a child."

Reluctantly, Jefferson scanned down the rather yellowed first page: the words were of a reasonably sized font, and he smirked at the very recognisable title: Rumplestiltskin.

_'Oh the irony.'_

He rolled his eyes at the opening, before beginning to read aloud,

"Once upon a time..."


	10. Chapter 10

Jefferson set yet another fabric pouch down on the steel operating table, gazing rather longingly at the mass of coins that clattered against the table like golden sparks as Victor poured out the pouch's contents.

"You do understand Rumplestiltskin is expecting results-if all this money is wasted…well, you do not want to get on his bad side," Jefferson announced, snatching up a stray coin and holding it up so it was precisely level with Victor's face, "all this would just vanish."

With that, he snapped his fingers, his rapid sleight of hand causing the coin to slip into his sleeve. Victor remained unimpressed; turning his attention to wiping away a dark stain, which Jefferson hoped was blood, on the table.

"I have been experimenting more recently into making alterations to the brain of my brother, though I am still not satisfied. The current stormy weather conditions make it perfect for operations, though it is a complicated procedure." Victor explained, and Jefferson did not miss how purposefully slowly Victor was speaking: he suspected Elizabeth may have informed her brother of his reading difficulties.

"Well you try explaining that to the dark one!" Jefferson snapped.

Victor gave a sigh, as though Jefferson's reaction only proved his stupidity.

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" He haughtily asked, completely disinterested in him.

Jefferson got the sense his presence was no longer deemed necessary by the doctor, which somewhat reminded him of Victor's rather cold and harsh seeming father.

"I suppose you are right," he announced, before giving Victor a rather extravagant bow. It had the desired effect, and Jefferson scurried from the laboratory before Victor could get too annoyed.

Jefferson made for the front door as if to leave, but all he did was open the door and allow it to swing shut with a thud. That made sure Victor thought he was gone and was also his sign to Elizabeth. Giving his pocket watch a quick glance, Jefferson strode back to the staircase, taking the wide steps two at a time.

As Jefferson hurried up the library, he could have sworn he heard a low, guttural moan: a sound he'd only heard from a wild animal- or Gerhardt. He stopped to listen, although Jefferson could only hear the cold silence of the black and white castle. Shaking his head, Jefferson continued up the stairs before heading straight to the library door. Every single door was the same grey oak, though Jefferson had wandered down the hallway enough times to know exactly which one lead to their meeting place.

At first, the library appeared to be completely abandoned, though there was a faint ray of light from an open window shining like a halo on a small section of the room. It was there that Elizabeth was sat reading, tucked away between two towering bookshelves.

Jefferson kept his steps light on the faded carpet, determined to catch Elizabeth by surprise. He lingered by the nearby bookstand, observing her from a safe distance. Much of the library was still in a partial darkness, the corners consumed by shadows. But the open window had let in a pool of sunlight that made Elizabeth's beauty all the more visible. As Jefferson watched her, he realised it was the minor, hidden things that he marvelled at, like the way that Elizabeth's skin crinkled as she squinted to read the minuscule writing, how her collarbone, bathed in the golden-white light, was just visible from the edge of her dress, how her eyes moved from line to line of the book, completely absorbed...

"Jefferson?" Elizabeth hesitantly called, smiling with relief as she looked up to see him stood nearby.

"Who else would it be?"

Jefferson settled down beside Elizabeth, fondly winding a dark curl of her hair around the tip of his finger. She leant into him slightly, and Jefferson could feel the tension from her body fading.

"Where did we get up to yesterday?" He asked, the flirtatious tone implying something other than books.

"The little mermaid, if I remember correctly," Elizabeth said, resisting Jefferson's charms and opening up the book of fairy tales. A bookmark, as faded as the rest of the library, had been placed on the page Jefferson had last been reading.

* * *

"The little mermaid kissed his hand, and felt as if her heart were already broken. His wedding morning would bring death to her," Jefferson read, pausing. He drummed his fingers against the desk, hesitant to continue.

"And she would change into the foam of the sea,"" Elizabeth finished the sentence for him, but stopped at the concerned look on Jefferson's face,

"What's wrong?"

"Your wedding," Jefferson muttered, "I've just realised it's a month from today."

Elizabeth stayed silent, gently placing a hand on his arm, her tilted head fitting precisely onto his shoulder.

"Don't worry about that," Elizabeth replied, though her mournful tone suggested otherwise, "I've should have known it was only a month away: we sent off the wedding invitations today. Of course, all the guests had been informed many months ago, so they can all come. Well, all except my own family."

"Surely Victor will attend?"

"Yes, but not my father or brother. According to Victor Gerhardt couldn't get any leave from the army, and my father's business trip was more important than his own daughter's arranged marriage."

'_How can he lie to her like that?_' Jefferson thought, hoping his own knowledge wouldn't show on his face. He knew well how to hide his feelings, though Jefferson could feel his emotions had betrayed him as Elizabeth was giving him a confused frown.

"What? That's what Victor told me, yet that look…what do you know?" Her voice grew accusing, and when he looked Elizabeth in the eye, Jefferson couldn't find it in him to lie.

"Neither your father nor Gerhadt can attend the wedding, because they are dead."

Elizabeth froze. She suddenly looked paler than usual, her brightness vanishing as she stared at him.

"Dead?" Elizabeth whispered faintly, slumping down into her seat.

Guilt twisted inside Jefferson and he took hold of her icy hands, his fingers comfortingly tracing patterns along her wrist. He kept his eyes locked on Elizabeth's as he continued:

"Gerhadt is still alive, sort of, he's the experiment that Victor has been working on, only he is perhaps more violent, and dangerous, than you may remember." Jefferson paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in.

Elizabeth bolted upright, a horrified look on her face as she made the connection.

"Our father isn't away on a business trip, is he? Did Gerhardt murder our father?"

"Yes, though not intentionally," Jefferson said.

But Elizabeth no longer appeared to be listening, tugging her hands free from his before rising and heading to the door without a word.

"Elizabeth, you cannot see him: he's dangerous," Jefferson called, catching up with her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Gerhadt is my brother: he will listen to me!" She insisted, shaking his grip from her and hurrying down the staircase. Jefferson followed her, though he knew that Elizabeth couldn't be reasoned with- only stopped.

As they entered the hallway Jefferson realised one of them needed some form of defence. He paused for a moment, fumbling around in his pockets to find the pocket sized pistol he'd stolen. Making sure it was definitely in place, Jefferson continued after Elizabeth. He was hesitant to call after her: Victor believed he was long gone and the last thing Jefferson needed was Victor finding he had been with Elizabeth.

The faint echo of footsteps sounded, and Jefferson caught sight of the edge of Elizabeth's dress, before clambering down the winding steps to the dungeon after her. But Elizabeth had the advantage, for she was a few paces ahead, and her nimbleness down the narrow stone steps gained her more distance as Elizabeth reached the dungeon. Jefferson rounded the corner to hear the sound of the door being bolted shut from the inside.

"Damn it Elizabeth!" He yelled, banging a fist against the door.

Desperately, Jefferson twisted the handle as hard as he could, but the door refused to open. Jefferson pounded against the door, yet it did not move, nor did Elizabeth unlock it.

_'It sounds pretty quiet in there, maybe she really can get through to-_'

Jefferson's thoughts cut short at the sound of a scream: a sound so terrifyingly feminine that Jefferson immediately threw himself at the door, his right shoulder barging into the solid wood. With a sickening crack, the door gave way, and Jefferson fell through into the dungeon. Straightening up, his sight wavering, Jefferson froze. The monster that had once been Gerhardt had grabbed Elizabeth by her neck, crushing the life out of her lungs. She made no attempt to writhe free, her body limply hanging against her brother's taut figure.

Without a second's hesitation, Jefferson fired the gun.


	11. Chapter 11

The monster keeled over, loosening its grip from Elizabeth, who would have also slumped to the ground had Jefferson not grabbed her. He wrapped an arm over her shoulder, holding her frail frame upright, though his trembling hand still clutched the gun. Elizabeth's breath was a whisper against Jefferson's neck, her instability frightening Jefferson more than anything.

"Come on Elizabeth," he muttered, pressing his forehead to hers, but Elizabeth still gave no sign of life, and for a moment Jefferson was gripped by fear as he realised he couldn't feel her breathing. Suddenly Elizabeth gasped as she took a sharp breath, her half closed eyes fluttering open.

"Gerhardt, he-" Elizabeth was cut short by the sight of her blood stained brother lying on the dungeon floor. She stifled a scream, clasping a hand over her mouth. Tears brimmed in her eyes, her shoulders shuddering as she choked back sobs.

"It's okay," Jefferson said soothingly, pulling her back into him so that her head rested against his chest, her sobs out of time with his own racing heartbeat.

"What on earth is going on?" A furious voice demanded.

Startled, Jefferson glanced up at the doorway, where Victor stood; his eyes ablaze at the sight of Jefferson holding Elizabeth, though they soon trailed down to the gun, then to the dungeon floor. Upon seeing Gerhardt's body, Victor rushed to his brother, carefully turning him so that he was face up, before placing a finger on his neck, though he could see it was hopeless. Suddenly Victor looked up at Jefferson, glowering with anger as he spat:

"You murdered him. You cannot deny it: the gun is in your hands. How could you? When I was so close to truly bringing him back!"

Jefferson stared at Victor, unable to hide the disgust in his reply: "Shouldn't you be more concerned about the fact that your monster almost killed your sister?"

Untangling herself from Jefferson, Elizabeth took a shaky step towards her brother. She gingerly rubbed at the dark bruises that had begun to form on her pale neck.

"Why didn't you tell me about Gerhardt and our father?"

"I couldn't admit what I had done to you," Victor replied guiltily, before softly adding, "I'm sorry."

"Apology not accepted!" Elizabeth cried, her fury strengthening her as she strode over to him. She drew to her full height, though Elizabeth still had to glare up at Victor to meet his eye.

"You didn't have to lie."

With that, the pair began to argue vehemently, quickly becoming lost in the quarrels, stood over their dead brother. Shaking his head, Jefferson excused himself, though he knew both Elizabeth and Victor had forgotten his presence.

'_Only the gods know how long they'll be fighting_.' Jefferson thought as he strayed down the gravel drive of the Frankenstein residence towards the gardens.

Even in the cloudy, dismal weather, the flowers bloomed, sensing a summertime that Jefferson couldn't feel in the gloomy realm. Somehow the fresh air was calming, driving away his thoughts that circulated from Victor and Elizabeth's rows to the closeness of Elizabeth's wedding. Jefferson even managed a brief smile at the sound of birdsong in the trees that hung over from the woods. Their chirps were not quite loud enough to drown out of the commotion coming from the castle: something being smashed, a door slamming shut, infuriated accusations and shouts that were verging on being hysterical. Jefferson tried to ignore the din, drowning out everything by studying the different plants that Elizabeth had been growing. Many of them were common varieties that Jefferson had passed in plenty of realms, though he couldn't find a single rose in the whole garden.

'_I'll get Elizabeth some, red ones from Wonderland and enchant them so they'll never lose their colour._'

Jefferson thoughts were disturbed by Elizabeth's bitter sobs that were accompanied by unlady-like cursing, growing louder as she reached him. In anticipation, Jefferson straightened up to greet her. But nothing could have prepared him for the whirlwind of a girl that stormed around the corner. Elizabeth sank into the bench, silently seething. Her body was hunched over as she rubbed at her eyes with trembling fingers. Cautiously, Jefferson sat down beside her and reached out to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Elizabeth shook him off and twisted herself away without a word. Eventually she hoarsely announced:

"I want to leave."

Jefferson frowned, hoping she wasn't implying what he suspected.

"Elizabeth, I really don't think-"

"I want to leave," Elizabeth firmly repeated, slowly turning to face him.

The end of her nose and rims of her eyes had darkened from crying and Elizabeth dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Her expression was contorted between anger and desperation.

"You mean you want to leave with me: in my hat?" Jefferson said.

She nodded and swallowed back the tears that were welling up.

"I hate it here. This place, it isn't my home, it's a prison," Elizabeth wept sulkily; "there's nothing here for me. I hate it!"

"I know, I know," Jefferson murmured quietly, removing his hat and fumbling with the edge between his fingers, "but you cannot come with me. The hat has rules: if only one goes through, only one goes back. It won't work otherwise."

"But you've taken Victor to your realm before, so there must be ways to get round the rules," Elizabeth pointed out.

Jefferson ignored this and continued:

"You can't leave: at least not with me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not just a portal jumper, Elizabeth, I work as a thief too. You wouldn't be safe with me. I have plenty of enemies and they would all do you harm. Trust me; you're better off staying here with the Count."

"So that's it?" Elizabeth demanded, "You have no qualms about kissing me, making me feel like I was something special and then you're going to just leave me here with that vampire?"

"No," Jefferson snapped back, frowning in irritation, "look, that's not the point- you cannot leave here, what about Victor? I can't be the reason he loses you, the only family he has left. After all, you don't abandon family."

"What do you know about family?" Elizabeth snapped back scornfully. Her comment snapped the last of Jefferson's tethered patience.

"What I know is that I was abandoned by my own parents!" He retorted sharply, making Elizabeth shrink back in shock. But Jefferson was too riled to notice:

"They didn't even want me, and unlike you I wasn't then adopted by some rich family. I spent the first fifteen years of my life treated like complete dirt, made to feel as though I would never amount to anything, with nobody to comfort me, nobody to care for my wellbeing. And here you are thinking your life is so awful because you're being forced to marry a vampire! Yet you don't understand just how lucky you are: you never had to want for anything, you were given an education, but most importantly you grew up with a family who loved you. That's far more than I ever got: which is why I will not let you abandon Victor."

With that, Jefferson rose from the bench, jauntily tipping his hat to signal him leaving. His jaw had clenched too tightly for him to speak to Elizabeth, though Jefferson had nothing left to say to her.

"Don't use that as an excuse!" Jefferson heard Elizabeth yell after him, though the rest of the sentence was lost in the low rumble of thunder that echoed over their heads.

Suddenly Elizabeth had caught up with him, grabbing hold of his arm, her nails digging into his skin as she forced him to turn around.

"You're just too afraid to make this relationship last," she hissed venomously, "my brother told me that you only sleep with women for one night and then walk back out of their lives. I thought I could be different."

The look on her face changed, her anger vanishing as Elizabeth spoke, her voice close to breaking:

"I thought that you loved me."

"Love is weakness," Jefferson said indifferently, roughly dislodging his arm from her grip and walking away.


	12. Chapter 12

Jefferson slammed the steel door of the land without colour, letting out a frustrated groan, words failing to convey the anger that pulsated inside his head.

"Stupid girl, how can she think I love her?" He muttered to himself through gritted teeth before kicking a foot against the metal door and immediately regretting it.

Jefferson's foot began to throb, but for a moment he was distracted from the battle of emotions that raged in his head. Cursing loudly at his stupidity, Jefferson hobbled across the hall to the enchanted forest's wooden door.

Rumplestiltskin had enchanted the hat to land Jefferson in the middle of the woods rather than taking him directly to the castle, in the event of anyone managing to follow the portal jumper through. But with a sore foot, having to trudge through the woods was the last thing Jefferson wanted. As he clambered through the eerily quiet forest, Jefferson's thoughts wandered back to his argument with Elizabeth, his irritation increasing with every step towards Rumplestiltskin's castle.

"Ah, you've returned," the imp announced upon Jefferson's arrival, "I was beginning to worry you'd got lost."

His trademark giggle was cut short by his business partner's unamused scowl, and though Jefferson knew well to tread warily with the Dark One, he couldn't help but make his annoyance known.

"I take it things didn't go too well with a certain Frankenstein?" Rumplestiltskin queried; his choice of words only making Jefferson suspicious. He didn't reply, though Rumplestiltskin seemed keen to interrogate Jefferson:

"Since when did you start limping?"

With that, Rumplestiltskin raised a hand to cast a spell, although Jefferson indignantly waved away his offer.

"I can do it myself thanks," he snapped, quickly casting a healing spell. Jefferson sank onto the nearby bench, holding his head in his hands as he attempted to shut out his thoughts.

"Is there something troubling you?"

For once Rumplestiltskin's voice had no trace of irony and Jefferson was thrown by his genuine sounding concern. He cautiously looked up, expecting his business partner to suddenly quip one of his sarcastic remarks. But Rumplestiltskin remained silent, though Jefferson was at a loss of what to say.

'_Why should I feel guilty? I'm not in love._'

"You were right earlier; I had a disagreement with Victor Frankenstein."

Rumplestiltskin tutted, as though he wasn't fully satisfied with Jefferson's answer.

"Well settle your disagreement," the imp coldly replied, looking Jefferson straight in the eye. Both of them knew he wasn't referring to Victor. Jefferson nodded in agreement, but remained slumped in his seat.

"But leave it for a day or so," Rumplestiltskin announced, grabbing a small pouch of coins and throwing it to Jefferson's feet, "take your wages for today's work: I no longer have any need for you. Go and enjoy the evening. Don't even think of returning until you are so drunk that you cannot remember _her_ name."

Despite his grin, the words seemed almost threatening, though Jefferson raised an eyebrow and rose from his stooped position.

"Very well." He gave a tip of his hat before doing up the buttons of his coat as he thought of his next destination.

* * *

The tavern lay empty, almost every seat abandoned, half eaten food resting on grimy plates, creaking wooden seats pushed out from the tables. Only one table was in use and it was there that all the travellers, pirates, villagers, knights and barmaids had gathered. Sat at this table were three hunched figures, their faces half masked by clouds of perfume and cigar smoke. The fourth figure was casually sat back in his seat, a velvet top hat resting on his head.

Jefferson waited until the last second to slam down his cards onto the table, relishing in the sound of the crowd's roar.

"Looks like I win another round," Jefferson declared, smirking at the stunned faces of his opponents.

With a flourish, he swiped the mountain of coins towards him and waved for another round of drinks with his free hand. One of the other players left and their seat was quickly taken by another foolish enough to believe he could beat Jefferson.

As the seating arrangement shifted, the woman to Jefferson's left sidled even closer until she was almost perched on his lap. She draped an arm around his shoulder, and he felt her vodka scented breath whispering in his ear.

"Marie! Can't you wait a little longer?" He teased in a low voice, before announcing to the crowd, "I'm afraid there will be only one more round and then I must retire to my bedroom."

Jefferson raised his eyebrows suggestively, the throng of women around him giggling. He took a swig from his glass and winked up at the barmaid serving when Marie wasn't looking.

The other players set down the cards, though Jefferson knew he would win. He always did. Because of this Jefferson didn't pay the slightest attention to the game, although this didn't bother the crowd. To them he was just a mysterious and rich stranger who was paying for their drinks.

Just as Jefferson was about to set down another winning hand, the tavern door swung open. A pair of heels clicked against the stone floor of the hovel and the room fell silent, the people staring up at their queen, shocked by her arrival.

The only person who hadn't noticed was Jefferson, who puzzled by the sudden silence, looked up with a drunken hiccup.

"Regina! What do I owe the pleasure?" Jefferson cried, out-stretching both arms in welcome.

"I wish to speak to you: in private," Regina said briskly.

Jefferson got to his feet and Marie made a small noise of protest, feebly grabbing onto his coat sleeve.

Dismissively, Regina gave a wave of her wrist and the girl vanished in a whirl of purple smoke to be replaced by a Queen of Hearts playing card.

Terrified, the crowd parted and Jefferson stumbled past them upstairs, followed by Regina.

He shoved the battered door of his bedroom until it locked and flopped onto the bed. Regina remained by the wall, gazing in disgust at her surroundings.

"You know I usually get up to other activities aside from chat when on a bed with a woman," Jefferson said.

Regina looked down at him haughtily, any seduction lost by his slurred voice.

"You'll have to try better than that," she sneered in response, "I'm not like those barmaids downstairs. I won't just fall at your feet."

Regina took a step towards the drunken portal jumper so that she stood over him.

"Why are you doing this Jefferson?"

Before Jefferson had a chance to explain, Regina continued,

"Getting drunk with a bunch of commoners, whist cheating them of their money and romancing barmaids! Isn't this the life you worked hard to rid yourself of?

Jefferson shrugged before grinning widely up at her and tossed the jangling bag of his winnings in the air. Regina grabbed the pouch before it could land.

"What did you do that for?" Jefferson demanded sullenly, reaching up to snatch it back.

"This is serious. What about Elizabeth?"

He stared blankly up at her at Regina.

"Who's Elizabeth?"

"Elizabeth!" Regina sighed, "the girl who only a month or so ago you claimed to have feelings for?"

"Oh…her," Jefferson muttered, scowling as though Elizabeth was a particularly bad taste in his mouth.

"Yes: her," Regina's business-like tone vanished as she carefully sat down beside him, the pouch still just out of reach, "I know you've had some 'disagreement' with her, but is this really the best way to resolve things?"

"This is Rumplestiltskin's orders."

"Can't you see he just wants to keep you from falling in love? Love is the most powerful magic of all: I lost my chance, but I refuse to let you."

"Maybe it's not meant to be," Jefferson retorted, "maybe you haven't lost all your chances."

He leant in a little closer, his hands caressing Regina's waist, winding around her back as he pressed his lips against hers. Distracted by his advances, Jefferson grabbed the pouch of money, the intoxicating scent of apples filling his senses.

But it was quickly repulsed by the horrible guilt that knotted in his gut, flashes of his kiss with Elizabeth, walking in the garden together and their reading sessions making Jefferson realise his mistake. He reeled away from Regina, whose composure couldn't hide her shock.

"Maybe I haven't…" She murmured softly, tentatively reaching out to take his hand. But her words fell on deaf ears, as Jefferson leapt up, his drunken stupor vanishing.

"You're right!" He cried joyously, "I have to find Elizabeth!"

Jefferson's shaky foot tripped on the loose floorboard and he fell forward, grabbing at the wall to stop him from crashing headfirst onto the floor.

"I should probably sober up first," he said to himself.

Jefferson turned to Regina, placing a hand on either shoulder.

"You should go back to the castle and the king of course. But thank you for making me realise that Elizabeth is the only one for me."

"It's fine," Regina replied, swallowing hard before half-smiling at the beaming hatter.

Once Regina had gone, Jefferson settled back onto the rumpled bed. He gave a contented sigh as he gazed up at once white ceiling, the spiders webs stretched out like constellations. Overwhelmed by fatigue, Jefferson yawned loudly and closed his eyes, dreaming of how he was to present Elizabeth with a bunch of the best red roses from Wonderland.


	13. Chapter 13

Carefully, Jefferson plucked a sixth rose from the large bush before stuffing it into his leather satchel. So far, nobody had seen him. Casting a furtive glance around, Jefferson began to stroll back towards the winding path.

"Stealing from the Queen now?" A voice purred, "how…brave: or incredibly foolish."

Jefferson whirled around, though there was nobody behind him. His eyes went up to the branches that hung over his head, where a huge grin sat. The rest of the body became visible and a cat appeared.

"I'm in a bit of rush Ches," he called up and continued towards the path but was stopped by the floating cat materialising in front of him.

"Don't call me that, Hatter!" The Cheshire cat growled, though it's permanent smirk made it impossible to be menacing.

"Don't call me the Hatter- that guy is a crazy loon who sits at a table drinking tea with a rabbit and dormouse," Jefferson scoffed, "I will never end up like him."

"It's a hare actually. And I wouldn't be so quick to say that," the cat called after him.

Jefferson ignored him, hurrying back up the path where the giant flowers loomed. His quick pace soon lead him back to the looking glass and rather relieved to leave, Jefferson stepped into the quivering horizontal pool to the hat's hall of doors. He gave the steel door of the land without colour a push and went from the bright colours of Wonderland to the black and white of the Land without Colour.

As usual, the woods were eerily dark, the gnarled trees creating a labyrinth around him. But Jefferson had been through the woods so many times he knew exactly how to shortcut to the castle. He made his way over the uneven ground, leaping over the roots that twisted out of the ground. As Jefferson grew closer to the castle he hesitated at the sound of twigs snapping behind him. For a moment he worried he wasn't alone, but shook off the thoughts and continued.

The silence was broken by the occasional crack of another branch breaking, and Jefferson grew certain he was being followed. He stopped, fiercely clutching the roses as if they could defend him.

"The game is up," a voice from behind him announced.

Jefferson instantly recognised their foreign accent and slowly turned to face the Count. Swallowing back any fear, Jefferson bowed with a flourish.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced: the name's Jefferson-"

Three other figures stepped out from the shadows, all as pale and with the same air of sophistication as the Count.

"Four on one, seems a fair fight, no?" The Count asked, clicking his fingers. The fellow vampires took another foreboding step towards Jefferson.

"Indeed," Jefferson muttered, reaching in his back pocket for a dagger.

"Looking for this?" In the Count's hand was the silver dagger, and he waved it tauntingly at Jefferson.

"You're not the only one who can steal," the Count said in his soft and detached voice.

He gave a nod, and the others lunged at Jefferson. Before Jefferson could defend himself, they had pinned him against the tree, pulling at each limb with excruciating strength to restrain him. The Count sauntered up to him, smiling smugly at the portal jumper.

"The dear Doctor Frankenstein informed me of you romancing my fiancée," he said, leaning in so that his face was level with Jefferson's: "and now I must have my revenge, for she is mine."

"Elizabeth is not yours, she doesn't even love you!" Jefferson cried as he struggled against his captors before spitting in the vampire's face.

The Count produced a silk handkerchief and wiped away the spit.

"Love does not matter," he responded, still devoid of any emotion, "Her family is rich, and I shall get her inheritance. There is no other reason why I want to marry the pathetic little bookworm."

As he spoke, the Count tugged the top hat from Jefferson's head and ran his fingers along the base.

"I have been keeping an eye on you and this seems to be your mode of transportation?" He asked whilst admiring the hat.

Jefferson didn't respond, though he couldn't hide the fear in his eyes as the Count looked as though he would drop it.

"_If that vampire gets through to the Enchanted Forest, Rumplestiltskin will kill me._'

"But we can discuss this marvellous hat later," the Count handed the hat to one of his cronies and grabbed the discarded roses.

"These were for Elizabeth, were they not?"

Jefferson nodded, still writhing against the vampires.

"That is a shame, for I had hoped the Doctor was wrong about you. You would have made a good business partner."

The Count prised Jefferson from the tree and dragged him forward before punching him hard in the chest. Jefferson stumbled backwards and was attacked by the vampires behind him. His arms ached from being stretched behind the tree but he attempted to throw a punch in defence, though he was too slow for the Count, who kicked at his shins so that Jefferson collapsed to the floor. He was weapon less and overwhelmed by the endless stamina of the vampires, who beat him until the Count announced that they had done enough.

Crouched beside him, the Count pulled at Jefferson's cravat so that his neck was bare. Swiftly, three talon-like nails scratched into his skin and Jefferson could feel the blood oozing out of them. Jefferson closed his eyes as he awaited the vampire to bite his neck.

To his surprise, the Count stood up again and placed Jefferson's hat on his head with a smirk. Bowing to Jefferson, the vampires began to walk away. Infuriated, Jefferson dizzily struggled to his feet and forced himself to run after them. With his final ounce of force, Jefferson launched himself onto the Count and tore the hat from his head before falling off. His back hit the floor, sending waves of pain through his body. The Count shook his head as if getting the hat back was too much effort. He picked up the unharmed roses and threw them at Jefferson.

"At least you have flowers for your grave," the vampire mocked, giving Jefferson one last kick in the chest. Jefferson bit down hard on his tongue but to the Count's delight a scream of agony escaped him. With that, the vampires slunk back into the shadows that revolved sickeningly before Jefferson's eyes.


	14. Chapter 14

Jefferson wasn't sure when everything stopped spinning, but eventually the woods around him were still. Crying out in pain, Jefferson hauled himself to his feet, grasping a nearby tree trunk for support. He took a step forward, ignoring the screams of pain from each limb as he staggered out of the woods towards the dimly lit castle, a beacon in the darkness. His mind was still reeling from the fight. All he wanted to do was rest for a moment.

"Just few more steps," he murmured, "then you can see her again."

The image of Elizabeth, with her sweet smile, was enough to push forward, enough for him to grasp the pillar by the castle door, his free hand clutching the roses. He gasped for air, trying to ignore the sharp stabbing pain in his chest. Jefferson's knees buckled as he reached for the doorbell, wincing as it rang out in the still night, clanging on and on.

'Open the door.' Jefferson willed, pressing a hand against the wooden door as he bent over and retched, pain shooting through him.  
Suddenly the door swung opened and he fell forward. He lost his grip on the bunch of roses and they tumbled to the floor.

"Jefferson?" He looked up, blinking under the harsh candle light.

Jefferson could just make out the features of Elizabeth, who had managed to catch him. Her face rapidly changed from shock to anger, then to concern.

"What on earth?" Elizabeth stopped short as she looked down at his bloody state and the stone steps. Jefferson's cheeks flushed with shame at the sight of the bile by his feet. He wanted to reply, but more bile was rising in his throat so he shook his head, clinging to her bare arms as she struggled to support him.

"Victor! Victor!" Elizabeth yelled, wrapping a hand around Jefferson's back and pulling him into the nearby chair.

She retrieved the roses from the doorstep and unceremoniously dumped them on a nearby stand before turning her attention to Jefferson.  
She held the candle up to his face, looking him over, her eyes widening in horror at the bruises and cuts. Her cry had faded into the darkness, and there were no sounds of movement to suggest her brother was coming to help.

"Victor Mortimer Frankenstein!" Elizabeth yelled again, her voice almost a scream, breaking a little as she called his surname. Jefferson watched through half closed eyes as she her knelt beside him, her hands cradling his bruised cheek.

"Hey, Jefferson, stay awake, please?" She begged, sounded terrified now. Elizabeth glanced back over at the roses.

"Are those flowers for me?"

Jefferson managed to nod; grimacing slightly as he swallowed the blood he could taste in his mouth and said: "I'm sorry."

He stretched out a finger and stroked her hand, exhaling deeply.

"Don't be," Elizabeth murmured, her frightened face softening, "I was the one who wanted to leave, and-"

She broke off at the sound of footsteps approaching them.

"Whatever it is better be bloody important if you're shouting my full name in the middle of the night," Jefferson heard Victor call, hurrying down the staircase towards them.

"Indeed, doctor obvious," Jefferson managed to mutter, the pain momentarily easing as Elizabeth gave a soft laugh.

"At least your wit is still intact," she whispered, wiping a finger against Jefferson's chin to remove the remnants of his bile upheaval.

"It's Jefferson," Elizabeth answered Victor, though she kept watching over Jefferson.

"He's not drunk again is he?" Victor sighed, "it wouldn't be the first time."

"No! He'll die of you don't do something!"

Jefferson could imagine Victor had rolled his eyes at that, cursing his sister for being so melodramatic. Elizabeth had grabbed her brother's arm and pulled him close enough to properly see Jefferson. Victor's mouth dropped slightly in surprise as he stared at Jefferson.  
He opened his mouth to make another sarcastic quip but a wave of pain hit Jefferson. Victor's orders to Elizabeth became indistinct but he could see her she standing up.

"I'm sorry but I'm going to have to treat you in my lab." The doctor said and Jefferson let out a cry of agony as Victor lifted him.

"Elizabeth," Jefferson rasped, watching as she disappeared from sight. But no sound escaped his dry lips, "Elizabeth…"

Suddenly, everything brightened as they entered Victor's lab and Jefferson could feel the cold, metal operating table beneath him, the one he'd stared at some many times and wondered how anyone could be operated on such a thing.

'_But then again, all of Victor's patients are dead_' Jefferson thought, '_until me._'

"Don't worry, you won't die. You can't: not for Elizabeth's sake," Victor said, as though he had read Jefferson's thoughts.

Jefferson weakly nodded, wishing for Elizabeth to reappear. The doctor unbuttoned Jefferson's blood-stained shirt, shaking his head at the extensiveness of the wounds.

"This is all my fault," Victor muttered lowly as he dabbed disinfectant on the three cuts on Jefferson's neck.

All Jefferson could do was whimper at the stinging sensation. Elizabeth hurried into the laboratory laden with bandages and water.

"Ssh, ssh, you're going to be okay," she soothed, resting a cool hand on Jefferson's, though he could see the worried look Elizabeth cast her brother.

As Victor subjected Jefferson to more poking and prodding, the pain grew almost unbearable, and their words became distant again.

"I fear he may have at least two broken ribs...I need to operate."

He heard Victor say, though Elizabeth's reply was indistinguishable as something was clasped over his mouth and nose. A sweet smell overwhelmed him, Jefferson's vision blurring.

He longed to hear Elizabeth's calming voice once more: but he couldn't fight the unconsciousness any longer. Finally Jefferson gave in and Elizabeth, Victor and their black and white realm faded into darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

Groggily, Jefferson opened an eye. For a moment the white-washed walls and ceiling blurred as he adjusted to his surroundings. He was no longer on the cold operating table: instead he was lying in bed, the soft fabric resting upon his skin. Jefferson glanced around, noting the few sparse decorations across the room and the wooden peg that held his coat, cravat and hat. Elizabeth's fingers were wrapped around his right hand, her nightdress spilling onto the bed.

_'This has got to be a dream,' _He thought, although to his disappointment, when he examined his upper body, it was swathed in bandages and several dark bruises ran along his arms.

"Elizabeth?" Jefferson called huskily.

Elizabeth's hand snapped away from his and her head jerked up. Yawning loudly, she murmured, "Sorry Victor, I didn't mean to doze off…"

She rubbed at her eyes and looked around in confusion. "Oh, you're awake!" Elizabeth realised, sighing with relief. She leant over and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I didn't realise you'd come round so soon, Victor said it would take a while for the chloroform to wear off."

'_So that was what the handkerchief was soaked in,_' Jefferson thought, vaguely recalling inhaling something before falling into unconsciousness.

"Have you been here all night?" Jefferson asked; his tongue as dry as sandpaper as he spoke. Elizabeth nodded.

"I couldn't just leave you!" She exclaimed at his guilty expression before handing Jefferson a glass of water. He gulped down the contents, the cool water seeping down his raw neck. Elizabeth stroked his cheek and added: "Someone had to watch over you. You were in a rather bad condition last night. And I'm sorry, about what I said the other day, I didn't mean it-"

"It's fine, really," Jefferson cut in, "I understand why you wanted to leave, and even if you can't leave with me, there must be a way to stop you marrying that vampire."

"He was the one who attacked you, wasn't he?" She asked, glancing down at the three sets of stitches on his neck.

Jefferson nodded, and Elizabeth's concerned look grew even more sorrowful. Ignoring the aching sensation, he lifted an arm and rested his hand on top of hers, "Surely him attacking me is enough to prove that the arrangement should be called off? Victor must be able to see now that you shouldn't marry the Count?"

"Victor wishes for me to marry the Count about as much as you do, but he did not make the arrangement. Our father did. His will clearly states that should I refuse to marry the Count, all of the money to my family's name goes to the Count. Victor and I will receive nothing."

"But he isn't even a member of your family."

"I know. It's ridiculous! Victor is his son," Elizabeth said, and Jefferson frowned at her despondence.

'_I could give her some of the gold I get from selling off Rumplestiltskin's straw,'_ Jefferson considered.

But as he parted his lips to voice his thoughts, the sudden breath caused a shooting pang in his chest. Jefferson groaned and tentatively touched the bandage. His hand recoiled as the pain only increased. The cry startled Elizabeth from mulling over her predicament.

"Careful! Don't touch it," She warned, getting up from the stool, "I'll go and get Victor. He'll want to check you over and he ought to have some pain-relieving medicine for you."

Elizabeth strayed for a moment, running her colourless hand along Jefferson's black and blue bruises before hurrying out onto the corridor to fetch her brother. Once Elizabeth had gone; Jefferson slowly lay back into the pillow, being careful not to jolt his chest. The approaching footsteps kept him from slipping back to sleep and he craned his neck to peer through the doorway to see the doctor arriving.

"How do you feel?" Victor queried, sitting down on the stool Elizabeth had been on.

"Like I took the wrong pill in Wonderland," Jefferson muttered in response.

"I'm afraid it won't get better anytime soon," Victor sombrely announced as he examined the bandages.

"Some bedside manner you have."

"I'm a scientist, not a hospital doctor! Look: do you want the bad news or the really bad news?"

Jefferson shrugged and Victor continued, "I believe that you have two broken ribs, and you can see for yourself the bruises and the scars on your neck. Of course, those will heal far faster than your ribs, which could take many weeks. Depends on how successful a recovery you make."

"I don't need to recover. I can just use magic, I'll be as good as new then," Jefferson said, wincing in pain as he tried to get up, "Just give my hat and I'll be out of your way-"

With a cry, Jefferson flopped back, breathing heavily with exhaustion.

"You're not going anywhere yet," Victor said firmly, grasping his shoulder as if to stop Jefferson from trying to get up again.

"But Rumplestiltskin-"

"Not buts. I'm sure the dark one will be very interested to find that science, not magic, saved his best thief's life. Now get some rest."

With that, Victor placed a small vial on the bedside cabinet and rose from the seat.

"Where are you going?" Jefferson said, trying to make his hoarse voice as demanding as possible.

"I have to go: the carriage for Elizabeth's wedding rehearsal will be here soon. However I do suspect my role as best man is to restrain Elizabeth from punching her fiancé," Victor informed him, before adding, "I'm sorry about what I did. If I had known quite how the Count would react, I never would have told him about you and Elizabeth. Still, at least he didn't take your hat. Then I would be fearing Rumplestiltskin's wrath."

Jefferson made a noise of agreement, though his attention was turned to trying to decipher the minuscule dosage instructions on the vial's label. It was only when Victor coughed loudly did Jefferson look up to see him lingering in the doorway.

"You know, last night, after Elizabeth found you, she didn't sleep a wink," he said, "She wouldn't leave your side. And she told me all about your reading lessons, how much she loves hearing your tales of far off lands- and of the argument you two had. She cried harder than I've seen her cry in a long time, somehow scaring herself into believing that the argument could have caused you to turn up here half-dead. I realised then that the feelings she has for you are very real, and that perhaps you requite them."

"I wouldn't have come back if I didn't."

"Good. That's good, as I think that maybe...you'd be...good for Elizabeth," Victor mumbled.

"Are you giving me your blessing?" Jefferson teased.

Victor ignored his comment and instead shouted back to Elizabeth, who had been calling him.

"I really do need to be going," Victor said, before nodding at the vial in Jefferson's hand, "Take it before you sleep. There should be enough for tonight."

Jefferson dubiously studied the dark liquid inside the vial, though when he looked back up Victor had disappeared. The castle had suddenly fallen silent without Victor or Elizabeth.

_'I suppose I may as well sleep.'_

Jefferson downed the vial's contents in one; though he grimaced at the foul taste it left in his mouth. But within minutes he was overcome with fatigue, sinking back into a deep slumber.

* * *

_Lush grass flows in the breeze, the tips bent, brushing against the back of her head. The late afternoon sun beats down, the grass vividly green beneath the clear blue sky. Every colour is dizzyingly bright, though her skin remains like paper and her hair as dark as a raven's feather. Not that this bothers her. Her lack of colour makes her seen transparent in the glittering light._

_She delicately floats down the path, her white dress and grace reminiscent of an angel. With a joyous laugh, she whirls around. Her lithe arms extend as wide as she can make them, her hands reaching out, the daisies still coiled around her hair. She moves in time to an inaudible tune, her feet waltzing back and forth. With every step forward she grows almost close enough to take her hand. Just as he is about to reach out, she darts away again and wanders further down the path._

_Desperately, he follows her. But no matter how hard he tries, she keeps slipping away._

_Always just out of reach..._


	16. Chapter 16

_Finally, he managed to catch up with her. Dark wisps of hair framed her face that was masked by the dazzlingly bright sunshine. She whispered something, the word fluttering in the breeze, growing louder._

_"Jefferson, Jefferson..."_

_She grabbed hold of his hands, their coldness sending an icy chill through him._

* * *

Jefferson's eyes snapped open and he blinked as he struggled to register the sudden change from colour to black and white. But the voice still remained, repeating his name, over and over, their sing-song voice distorted with concern.

"Jefferson?"

He frowned, his focus finally settling. Elizabeth wasn't in a colourful land at all: instead she was stood over him, her hand pressing something cool to his forehead. She pulled her arm away and rinsed the cloth in a shallow cup of water.

"You were calling out for me in your sleep," Elizabeth explained before gently dabbing at Jefferson's forehead again, "I've been here for the past hour or so but your temperature isn't getting any better. I've tried everything to make it go down..."

Elizabeth motioned to the open window, which was letting in a brief breeze and the tugged-down sheets that exposed his bandaged chest.

"I wouldn't worry about it. Probably just from an infected cut," Jefferson lied, glanced down at the clean bandages that appeared to have been freshly replaced, "Just go and get Victor."

"He's not in! The Count found out about our father's death at the wedding rehearsal last night. Victor's helping him sort all the legalities with my father's lawyers. He thought because you were asleep, you'd be alright," Elizabeth replied, her voice trembling slightly.

"I am alright," Jefferson soothed, "I'm sure it'll go down."

He gave Elizabeth a reassuring smile. She half-smiled back, though the fretting look in her eyes lingered.

"How about you read to me?"

Elizabeth considered the suggestion for a moment, resting her hand over his.

"I'll just be a minute," she placed the damp cloth back in its cup and headed out into the hallway. A few minutes later Elizabeth returned, clutching several books. She set them down on the edge of the bed so that Jefferson could see each of the covers.

He looked at each in turn and said bemusedly: "Peter Pan, Aladdin or Alice's adventures in Wonderland? Do you have an obsession with children's fairy tales?"

Elizabeth shrugged and smiled sheepishly, "You like them just as much as I do: now, which one?"

Jefferson didn't need to read the synopses: he knew all three stories well enough as each was in set in a realm he'd visited many times. He picked up the final book, thinking of his last trip to that bizarre place. "How about this one?"

Elizabeth nodded; taking the book, her fingers gently moved each page until she found the beginning.

* * *

"There was a table set out under a tree in front of the house, and the March Hare and the Hatter were having tea at it-"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the tea party was in the middle of a field," Jefferson interrupted.

Elizabeth put the book down yet again and gave him a steely glare. "Will you please stop altering the story? This is Lewis Carroll's Wonderland- not the one through your hat!"

"But he's got it all wrong," Jefferson sullenly muttered.

Shaking her head wearily, Elizabeth picked up the book to continue. But Jefferson lay restless, his bored mind filling with random questions to ask her.

"Why is your library so dusty?"

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before managing,"Are you delirious?"

"No, though being stuck in here is driving me insane."

She laughed at that and said softly: "The library is always dusty because I'm the only one who uses it. I'm not really supposed to- I stole the key from my father after he locked the place up. I think it reminded him of our mother too much. It was her favourite place, and she liked nothing more than to read to my brothers and I," Elizabeth explained, affectionately flicking through the discarded book on her lap,"Especially these fairy tales, she loved them. But then she got too sick to read…"

"I'm sorry about your mother," Jefferson said, his comment from their argument still fresh in his memory.

"It's not your fault. There was a scarlet fever epidemic, many people died in the nearby towns. I think that's why Victor was so determined to become a doctor from a young age: and is now obsessed over resurrecting the dead. He doesn't want to lose any more of the people he loves."

They were both silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

"I've never really had an ambition, aside from be the realms' greatest thief," Jefferson admitted.

"Well I've always wanted to be an author and write my own fairy tale for others to enjoy," Elizabeth said, "I've even written a few stories, but well, it's just a silly dream."

"How on earth is that silly?"

"Because I'm merely kidding myself: they'd never get published. Women hardly ever get their work published as it's not really socially acceptable. Especially not once I'm the housewife of a vampire."

"You won't be the housewife of that Count," Jefferson insisted.

She laughed at that, shaking her head, "What can you do about it Jefferson? You're not well enough to get out of bed, and the wedding is in a fortnight."

Jefferson opened his mouth to protest that actually his hot flush from earlier felt as if it had gone down, but another voice filled the silence.

"It's less than that I am afraid."

Both Elizabeth and Jefferson looked up at the sound of Victor's voice. He was stood by the door clutching an official looking document.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth asked.

Her brother did not reply, instead stepping towards them and placing the papers on the bed. Elizabeth peered to read them, suddenly snatching them and screeching furiously: "He wants to do what?"

"What?" Jefferson demanded, leaning forward to get a better look at the document.

"Move the marriage forward to the day after my birthday, rather than a week after!"

Elizabeth slammed the papers back down so Jefferson could read them, glaring up at the silent Victor who stood over them.

"How could you let him do this?"

"I had to," Victor calmly stated, "As our father is dead, and I your only living relation, apparently you have no legal guardian. In the eyes of the law you have to be married as close to your eighteenth birthday as possible. Even if I had said no on your behalf, it would have meant that the Count would receive all the money, as directed in our father's will."

"But…but what about the church, and the flowers, and surely all the invitations will have to be resent out?" Elizabeth protested.

"That doesn't matter!" Jefferson interjected, "The point is, none of us want you married to him- so sod the will. We've got to do something about it."

"It's not as simple as that. Our father's will is very specific, purely because he knew either Elizabeth or I would try stop the arrangement, and funnily enough it doesn't mention anything about what to do in the event of a portal jumper and thief becoming attracted to my sister-"

"Victor," Elizabeth interrupted in a warning tone, "Jefferson has every right to be concerned and I think that I should talk to him. Alone."

Taking the hint, Victor gathered together the papers and headed off down the hallway. His mutterings were inaudible to them, though Jefferson suspected they were related to him, and not necessarily pleasant.

"Ignore him. You're right: even if Victor won't do anything, we should do something about this wedding," Elizabeth said.

She clasped Jefferson's hands, her seething anger fading into worry as her eyes met his, desperately searching him for some kind of solution.

"I can't do anything like this," Jefferson said, and pointed down at his chest, then across to the hat. Even if he couldn't persuade Victor, he figured Elizabeth was worth a try.

"If I could use that, I could go back to my own land and use magic to create a potion and heal myself."

Elizabeth followed his gaze to the hat, though she frowned uncertainly. "But how do you get back- don't you have to jump?"

Jefferson nodded, and Elizabeth continued: "You can't jump, not with two broken ribs! No matter how much pain medicine you took, the shock of the jump would be too much. I'm not letting you."

"What do you want me to do?" Jefferson said exasperatedly, "I can't just lie here for an infinite amount of weeks waiting for my ribs to heal!"

"Is there not another way of getting magic here? I don't know if it's possible, but couldn't you use the hat to get the items you need and make the potion here?" Elizabeth suggested.

Jefferson thought for a moment, nodding slowly. "Theoretically, yes..." He murmured, thinking through each of the stages. Waving a hand in the direction of his satchel that hung beside the hat, he continued, "Can you get me the vial of fairy dust from my bag, and my hat?"

Elizabeth followed his instructions and pulled out a small bottle that glowed yellow, as well as take the hat from the peg.

"Why don't you use this?" She asked, studying the powdery dust inside before handing it over to him.

"I only really use it for kick starting the hat. Plus, I'd rather like to show you a little more magic."

Jefferson pulled off the cork and poured a small amount of the fairy dust onto the hat. Almost immediately it began to rotate, swirls of purple spilling out. As it grew larger, Jefferson closed his eyes and pictured Rumplestiltskin's potions room. He'd been in it enough times to recreate the place precisely in his mind.

Then he thought back to the day when Regina had messed up her potion, rewinding to just after Rumplestiltskin had left the pair for his business outside the castle. With each necessary item in mind, Jefferson could feel the hat's magic surging through him as the portals were created. His eyes didn't open until he had fully imagined all the items vanishing, and to his amazement, they had all appeared on the bed beside the hat.

"Wow," Elizabeth breathed, staring at the items.

"That's not even the best part," Jefferson said with a wink, taking the ogre blood and adding one of the unicorn hairs. His focus became devoted to the potion, his fingers moving with precision as he added the remaining ingredients. Eventually, the potion turned a dark purple hue and Jefferson grinned.

"One healing potion complete," He announced, holding up the bottle for Elizabeth to examine.

"I must admit, your magic is more exciting than Victor's science!" She exclaimed, staring wondrously at the potion.

"Time for it to go down the hatch," Jefferson said, placing the bottle to his lips, before adding:

"Could you make me a drink? This stuff smells disgusting, so it's only going to taste foul."

Elizabeth returned a few minutes later with two cups of tea on a tray. Jefferson took one and poured the potion into it, the steaming tea rippling in its cup. Elizabeth lifted hers and tapped it against his cup.

"A toast, to your good health," She laughed.

"And to us finding a way for you not to marry the Count!" Jefferson replied, gulping down the tea.

The freshly boiled water burnt his throat, followed by a tingling sensation that seeped into every bone. As a test, Jefferson inhaled sharply, anticipating a stab of pain, though none came. He then sat up with ease, beaming at Elizabeth.

"Even those scars have gone," She said, handing him a pocket mirror. Jefferson studied his neck to see that Elizabeth was right: the skin was completely smooth across his neck, as if any trace of the fight had vanished. He flexed his stiffened arms before sliding his legs out of the bed.

"I suppose I best get going," Jefferson announced, taking his hat in one hand.

He sat opposite Elizabeth for a second before leaning in and kissing her goodbye. It was only intended to be brief, though Jefferson found himself addicted to her touch, her cool hands tentatively exploring his bare back. Jefferson shifted his body closer to hers, his own hands resting on the back of Elizabeth's neck.

"Well that escalated quickly from a 'private conversation'," Victor announced.

Both Elizabeth and Jefferson jumped, separately rapidly. Jefferson could feel his cheeks guiltily flushing under Victor's unimpressed stare, and Elizabeth kept her head bowed, eyes fixated on the floor. Nobody spoke until Victor gave a slight cough and said:

"How are you well enough to do...that? A recovery that quickly, it simply isn't possible..."

"Magic!" Jefferson and Elizabeth replied simultaneously.

Victor rolled his eyes and sighed disapprovingly to himself, though Jefferson wasn't sure if it was because of his use of magic or them speaking in unison.

"I presume you'll want to return to your beloved enchanted forest?"

"Of course," Jefferson said, glancing over at Elizabeth before adding, "but I'll be back."

"Yes you will- this month's funds from Rumplestiltskin are due in a few days," Victor firmly said.

"Sure, and it's Elizabeth's birthday too," Jefferson continued.

He took the hat and placed it on the grey floorboards. Both Elizabeth and Victor took a step back as it enlarged. Jefferson gave a small bow, quickly winking at Elizabeth.

"Time to see if Rumple's noticed my absence," he said, before leaping into the portal.


	17. Chapter 17

Swallowing hard, Jefferson resisted the urge to scream. The pain in his chest had become almost unbearable, and the excruciating trek through the forest hasn't helped. He gasped for breath, the vice like grip around his ribs tightening. Giving the castle doors a shove, Jefferson staggered into the dusty hallway.

The thick curtains were closed, and there was very little light in the room. Suddenly the doors at from the potions room were flung open and the dark one strode out, but his purposeful stride was replaced with angry, or concerned, hurrying towards Jefferson.

"Where have you been? I said the evening off: not a bloody week!" Rumplestiltskin snapped, looking disdainfully at him, "where the hell have you been- and what have you done now? Anyone'd think you've been in the ogre wars!"

"I've only been gone three days," Jefferson said, though as he spoke he remembered how time changed differently in each realm, "I was in the land without colour, and I got into a fight with a vampire."

"And lost by the looks of things," Regina sniggered, appearing beside her mentor.

Jefferson scowled at Regina, leaning his rigid back against the wall.

"You know, a little magic would be really handy right about now," he said through gritted teeth, "I could only make a healing potion that would last an hour!"

"You made a healing potion- in the land without colour?" The dark one asked, suddenly interested.

Grinning slightly, he came closer to Jefferson: but not quite close enough to heal him.  
Jefferson took a deep breath, ignoring the throb of his ribs.

"Yes. I used the hat to create portals to retrieve each item."

Rumplestiltskin seemed to consider his answer for a moment, nodding in approval. He raised his hand.

"I suppose that almost makes up for your disappearance."

Rumplestiltskin grew closer, pressing his hand to Jefferson's rib, his voice now a low whisper:

"If you were in the land without colour, I assume you have resolved your...issue?"

"Indeed," Jefferson said, looking Rumplestiltskin straight in the eye. He was the one person Jefferson couldn't lie to, though his reply was the truth.  
_'Just not in the way you want._'

The imp gave a curt nod as his magic flowed through Jefferson, who could feel his wounds healing for a second time. Abruptly, the surge of magic halted and Rumplestiltskin stepped away, his services no longer needed.

No sooner had Jefferson had a chance to breathe, Rumplestiltskin had produced a scroll of parchment in his scaled hand. It swiftly unwound to reveal a list of jobs and their corresponding realms.

Jefferson scanned through the list. Most of the tasks were simple enough and coincidentally or not, they were all many realms away from the land without colour.

* * *

Snatching a breath, Jefferson hurriedly pulled the green curtain of Oz across. He tugged the tail of his coat behind him as the flying monkeys screeched and scratched their claws after him. Dusting himself off, Jefferson pulled out the slightly torn list from his satchel and crossed off:  
'observe and determine if the Wicked Witch of the West poses any threat.'

He checked the next realm; glad to discover his last task was also his final. In one day Jefferson had attended a royal coronation, stolen various items from kings, queens, magicians and market stalls, as well as spied on countless enemies of the dark one.

As Jefferson hurried to the final door with a renewed energy, he came back to Elizabeth's dilemma. Throughout his travels, she hadn't left his mind, though Jefferson was still no closer to finding an answer.

The oddly shaped door swung open and Jefferson stepped onto the golden-white sand. Beside him, deep-blue waves glistened underneath an orange sunset.  
An ominous whistle whispered along the breeze from the palm trees, reminding Jefferson that despite its beauty, where he stood was far from safe.

He knew what he needed and how to get there. But Jefferson wavered for a moment, planning the best route that would avoid an untimely run-in with the lost boys. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from behind him. Before Jefferson could turn around, something smacked into his head.  
Everything turned dark.

* * *

Feeling a pulsating migraine forming, Jefferson cautiously opened an eye. It was still dark, though brief flickers of light shone between the threads that covered his eyes.  
Nausea lurched in his throat as he felt himself be thrown sideways, though his arms remained bound.

Once he stopped moving, someone roughly pulled off what Jefferson suspected had been a bag over his head. Blinking, the harsh sunlight glared into his eyes. He then looked around, quickly registering his location as the floorboards tilted again: a ship. As he scanned the deck, Jefferson saw an array of pirates stood expectantly around him.

"What shall we do with 'im captain?" Said one in an oversized red cap.

"Throw him overboard!" Another pirate yelled and several others roared in agreement.

"We shall do no such thing," a voice called from above them, proud and commanding.

The crew fell silent. All Jefferson could hear was the tapping of approaching footsteps on the wooden planks. But he knew who it was even before the pirate arrived.

"You must be that portal jumper with the hat? I've heard all about you- and who you work for,"" the captain announced.

"The name's Jefferson," Jefferson said, his civility not quite enough to hide the sarcasm, "You must be Killian Jones- also known as Captain Hook."  
As he spoke, Jefferson glanced down at the silver hook that the Captain brandished.

"Indeed. Now, I've heard that you can talk your way out of anything," Hook said, giving a contempt smirk, "so talk your way out of not getting thrown overboard- tell me everything you know about Rumplestiltskin."

"I know he cut off your hand," Jefferson quipped.

Dissatisfied with his answer, Hook slide out his sword and pointed the tip at Jefferson's heart. Any lesser man would have quivered, though Jefferson remained unnerved. He knew whatever Hook did would only be half as bad as Rumplestiltskin's punishment for revealing any information.

Stood as nonchalantly as someone could be with their arms bound to a pole and a bunch of pirates surrounding them, Jefferson hoped Hook had realised this too, else he'd lose precious time stuck on the ship. But Hook's sword remained pressed to his heart, so Jefferson continued:

"I've heard other stories too..." Jefferson continued, pausing for effect before slyly grinning up at Hook,  
"that you took his wife?"

Hook stiffened at that, his expression changing. The sword was suddenly against Jefferson's neck and the pirate hissed,

"But have you also heard of how Rumplestiltskin killed her- because she loved me, and not him?"

Jefferson swallowed, more than a little conscious of the sword pressed to his neck. His thoughts were elsewhere- he knew well what the dark one was capable of.

_'Would Rumplestiltskin do the same to Elizabeth?_'

"What are you thinking of? Worried the dark one'll turn on you?"

"Of course not," Jefferson snapped, "now, I think we both know that trying to get any information out of me is useless, so if you'll just remove your sword, perhaps we could do business?"

To his relief the sword slid from his neck to a safe position by Hook's side.

"You wish to trade?" The pirate asked, the promise of gold immediately changing his tone to a more agreeable one.

Jefferson nodded and Hook motioned to one of his crew, then to below deck. One pirate swiftly cut loose the ropes around his arms whilst the red- capped pirate scurried off.  
Jefferson slid out a pouch filled with the gold that he kept on him, as well as a few small trinkets that he'd pick-pocketed to sell off. The red-capped pirate returned with a small selection of treasures and Jefferson studied each in turn. Most of them were pretty unimpressive: a few jewels, a map that looked pretty counterfeit and some potions. But there was one thing that did capture his attention.

A necklace: rose gold in colour, with a heart shaped pedant made from a peculiar glass that seemed to cast various colours, depending upon the sun rays.

Hook noticed him musing over the necklace. He slid the tip of his sword slid between the chains and lifted it up for Jefferson to see properly. As the pendant shook in the breeze, the inside twinkled with all the colours of the rainbow.

"So you do have someone special," Hook murmured, "I'd keep her away from your business partner if I were you, mate."

Jefferson ignored his comment, prising the necklace and studying it in the palm of his hand. He then tipped out a few gold coins.

"Genuine dwarf-stone, that necklace," The red-capped pirate suddenly piped up. With a sigh, Jefferson reluctantly added another two gold pieces.

"Nice doing business with you," Jefferson replied, slipping the necklace into the top pocket of his coat.

With a flourish, Jefferson removed his hat and lowered his arm as if to place it in the floor. Immediately, the pirates began to back away. To their surprise, Jefferson flipped the hat back onto his head and leapt up onto the edge of the ship.

Quickly tipping his hat in a mock salute, Jefferson jumped off the ship into the sea.

The water was colder than he had anticipated, but this didn't bother Jefferson: it had been too inviting to resist. Despite his coat weighing him down, Jefferson swam up to the surface with ease.

He took a deep breath, scanning the horizon for Neverland. The ship hadn't taken him too far from the shore, and Jefferson dove back down into the water.

He soon reached the beach and clambered out of the salty water. The sand was hot to the touch, prickling against his damp skin as Jefferson peeled off his drenched coat and loosened his cravat. Casting a cautionary glance up the beach, Jefferson saw that he wasn't alone. Hunched over a small fire was a familiar figure.

"I've been watching you," they called as he approached, taking a bite from the cooked fish in their hands,

"You gave those pirates quite a surprise when you fell overboard!"

"I didn't fall! I dived into the water," Jefferson retorted, settling down on the sand to warm by the smoky fire, his soaked belongings lain down between them to dry in the sun,

"Why were you watching me anyway?"

"'Cause I was wondering what you're doing here: Pan made it pretty clear you weren't to return."

Jefferson shrugged and took the second fish. His swim had left him rather hungry.

"I've stolen from plenty of other people- and when have I ever done what I was told?"

"You do what the dark one tells you. I guess he sent you, but what for?"

"I don't know, probably to get some more mermaid water. Regina's always breaking the potion bottles."

"He didn't send you for this?"

Jefferson turned to see what they meant to find that the necklace was no longer in his coat.

"Since when did you steal Bae?" Jefferson said, acting as though he was shocked.

He reached over to grab the necklace from the younger boy's dirty fingers, but Baelfire darted his hand away, keeping glittering pendant just out of reach.

"Since you taught me!"

"Indeed I did. I'm really not much of a role model am I?" Jefferson laughed.

"So, how is the dark one?" Baelfire asked, changing the subject.

"Same old, same old. Right now he's busy corrupting the queen Regina, and he's still making deals- nothing new really. But that's not to say that your father doesn't miss you."

"He's not my father," Baelfire muttered darkly, kicking the sand with a scowl,

"he gave up that right when he chose his power over me."

"Yes, but still-"

"But nothing! I know how you feel about it, but remember our agreement? You don't tell the dark one where I am: and I won't tell Pan you're here," Baelfire said, toying rather longingly with the necklace, "or maybe I'll keep this little beauty and sell it."

"Hey, I need that," Jefferson protested, "it's a birthday present."

"A birthday present? I didn't think you stayed with one woman long enough to get their name- let alone their birthday!"

"I might have to cast a spell on your tongue for that cheek!" As he spoke Jefferson finally managing to snatch the necklace back off Baelfire.  
"What's her name?"

Jefferson took another bite of the fish, which wasn't too badly burnt, looking over at Baelfire. He knew he could trust him.

"Elizabeth."

"What's she like?"

"Well...she likes to read. Always has her head buried in a book," Jefferson said, smiling to himself as stared into the reflective glass stone, fondly picturing Elizabeth,

"She's very caring and compassionate. Wants to be an author and she loves to hear of all the different realms I've been to."

Baelfire absorbed the information and for a moment they were both silent as they ate the rest of their fish.

"Doesn't sound like your usual type of woman," Baelfire announced before teasingly adding:  
"I thought you liked barmaids, mermaids, or princesses- actually let's face it, any attractive woman with more cleavage than common sense!"

_'That's a slight exaggeration-_' Jefferson thought, before realising Baelfire was right.

"Well Elizabeth's different," he replied, aware Baelfire was expecting an answer, "the feelings I have for her...they're, just... different."

"You love her."

"No. I don't. I can't love her. Love is weakness. People can use it against you. Love corrupts and poisons you, "Jefferson recited, Rumplestiltskin's voice saying each word in his head, "it's safer to only care about yourself."

"Enough!" Baelfire cried, lightly punching Jefferson's arm to make him stop.

"Tell me how you really feel- not what the dark one's been drilling into you."

"I do care about Elizabeth," Jefferson confessed, "I really do, but..."

"But what?"

"She's to be married in a week, to another, whom she doesn't love. I promised to help her get out of it, only the wedding was made her father, and his will that dictates the arrangement is pretty damn fool proof."

Baelfire picked at the fish bones that lay on the ash remains of the fire, frowning as he thought the problem over. Suddenly, he straightened up. His excited eyes looked up into Jefferson's.

"Isn't it obvious?" Baelfire said.

Jefferson stared blankly at him.

"Just do what you do best: steal it."


	18. Chapter 18

After leaving Neverland with yet another bottle of mermaid water, Jefferson headed straight to the land without colour. As he hurried through the woods, shuddering slightly at the memories of his last time in them, the plan began to unfold in his head, a flurry of ideas drifting in and out. He so excited by a sudden brainwave that Jefferson almost burst straight through the front door into the Frankenstein residence, his hand freezing by the knocker. He couldn't let Victor know he was back: there was no way that he'd agree to what Jefferson had planned.

"Jefferson?" Elizabeth called faintly.

He turned to see her rushing up the drive, her expression half shocked, half joyous.

"What are you… the Count might see…he's in the carriage!" She said urgently, pushing him towards the gardens.

Another set of footsteps crunched up the gravel and Jefferson ducked down behind a thick bush. He could only see glimpses between the rounded leaves, but Jefferson could make out the long cloak of the Count's brushing against Elizabeth's skirt. The front door opened and he could hear Victor's voice:

"Back so soon? I thought you'd be out until the evening?"

"I...I don't feel well." Elizabeth announced her voice suddenly shakier than before.

"It's probably just pre-wedding nerves," the Count said, and Victor made an unconvinced noise.

Jefferson strained to see more clearly, and though he couldn't see their faces, he could imagine Elizabeth was giving Victor a look that begged him to ignore her lie.

"Well, I suppose I better check you over. Thank you for bringing her back."

Elizabeth and Victor both remained silent until the Count vanished from sight, before beginning to squabble.

"You look fine to me!" Victor snapped, "and the Count brought you home because he was concerned about your health- if you can't get out of this wedding, perhaps the Count won't make such a bad husband."

"Oh, I just threatened to be sick on his cloak: and that creep will never make a good husband!" Elizabeth replied disgustedly.

Their conversation continued in a low tone that Jefferson couldn't hear, and they soon returned inside. Just as Elizabeth was about to leave, she glanced at the bush and then nodded her head towards the gardens. Once the door was safely shut, Jefferson straightened up and headed down the side of the castle towards the gardens.

He soon found Elizabeth's bench and sat down, fiddling with the necklace whilst awaiting her arrival. At the sound of her voice Jefferson hurriedly slipped the pendant back into his pocket and looked up. To his surprise, she wasn't angry, but crying. Elizabeth sat down beside him, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"I can't believe the nerve of that vampire!" She said, "I can't believe he'd…"

"He'd what?" Jefferson said, concerned.

Elizabeth shook her head, unable to speak as she swallowed hard.

"I just cannot marry him!"

"You won't have to marry him- I have a plan," Jefferson assured her, taking Elizabeth's trembling hands into his, "see, I don't just travel the realms, I also procure...hard to find items... and-"

"You mean you steal things? Victor told me what you do for a living in one of his many warnings to try and keep me from you," Elizabeth interrupted with a laugh.

"Didn't stop you though," Jefferson teased, "and, yes I do steal, in fact that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'll steal your father's will and change it, so that Victor gets the money instead of the Count."

"But what about me?" Elizabeth asked, frowning in confusion, though Jefferson only grew more excited,

"You won't need it! I get paid plenty enough for us both," he said with a grin as Elizabeth's tear stained eyes brightened, "the day after your birthday won't just be your wedding day: it'll be the day you leave this black and white realm. You can be my assistant. We can travel wherever we want..."

"I can finally see a world in colour, and there'll be nobody to tell us what to do, or how to feel, and I can write my stories..." Elizabeth continued ecstatically.

"It's perfect," Jefferson sighed, "but that's not the full plan. There's two parts to it, and I'm afraid you'll still have to attend the wedding, even once I've changed the will. We can't have the Count or Victor suspect anything."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement and for the next half an hour they discussed and developed the plan until every last detail was accounted for.

"Whilst I'm here, I may as well get hold of the will now and then report back to my business partner. I probably won't be able to see you until your birthday, and then, the next time we meet..."

"We'll be running away!" Elizabeth finished with a giggle, placing a kiss on Jefferson's cheek before whispering:  
"Good luck. Meet me at the back door of the castle on my birthday- and be careful, okay?"

"I don't need luck," Jefferson cockily replied, tipping his hat before heading from the gardens in the direction of the village.

* * *

Somehow, when Jefferson strolled out of the town records library, faint rays of summer sunshine seemed to be breaking through the overcast clouds. Grinning to himself, Jefferson passed by the lifeless buildings that were covered in the sun's hazy white light.

The trip back to the enchanted forest seemed to be a blur in his elated state. Stealing and altering the will had been simple enough: though for the first time ever, Jefferson had felt somewhat guilty by flirting with the receptionist, but he knew it was for Elizabeth's sake.

'_Everything's going exactly to plan_,' Jefferson thought as he removed each of Rumplestiltskin's requested items and set them on the dining table for inspection, '_Nothing could get in the way_…'

"Now that your work for the day is done, you can go: upstairs,to the third room on the left, your bedroom." Rumplestiltskin said.

"What do you mean my bedroom? I haven't lived in this castle for years?" Jefferson said, only half listening.

"I can't have you vanishing again," Rumplestiltskin explained, "so your evenings will be spent here- in this realm."

Jefferson glowered at him, his happiness slowly draining away as he realised what his business partner was implying.

"But you can't do that!" He spluttered, "where I go in my free time is my business: you can't just keep me here like a child! It wasn't even my fault that I was away- I told you, I was attacked by a bloody vampire!"

"I can make you stay here, and I will. It's not up for discussion."

With that, Rumplestiltskin swept off into the potions room. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to Jefferson with a wicked grin.

"You'll find your things upstairs," he added, before closing the door shut behind him.

Furious, Jefferson stared at where his business partner had been stood, words failing him. He glanced up to the top of the stairs, where indeed a few suitcases were magically positioned.

'_If that imp thinks I'm staying here, he's got another thing coming.'_

Placing his hat firmly on his head, Jefferson stormed to the front door, letting it slam behind him with a satisfying bang. He reached the bottom of the steps and took another step forward-

Jefferson was blasted back by what felt like being punched in the stomach and found he lay dazed on the steps. He stood up and tried again and again, but each time was the same.

"What are you doing?" Regina's bemused voice called from the bottom of the sloping pathway up to the castle.

"You look like…you're walking into an invisible wall!" She laughed good-naturedly, pulling off the headscarf that was wrapped around her hair and hurrying towards him.

Regina reached the point that Jefferson was finding impossible to cross and stepped through without even flinching.

"How come it let you in, and won't let me out?"

"You can't get out?" Regina murmured, "that'll be the measures that Rumplestiltskin said he'd put in. I guess he wants to keep an eye on you. My mother was the same: she enchanted the trees around our estate to grab me every time I tried to run away."

"So he's put up a magic force-field all the way around to stop me leaving?"

Regina nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. Noticing his despondency, she added,

"I'm sure Rumplestiltskin will relent soon enough, but hey, at least we've got each other for company."

Jefferson hoped Rumplestiltskin would relent before the next week. The thought of missing Elizabeth's birthday only darkened his mood. He was so lost in his thoughts that Jefferson didn't initially notice that Regina's arm had wound its way around his shoulder until she whispered in his ear:

"If you want, you can see the magic I've been working on."

Startled, Jefferson jumped and as he turned to face her, Regina's arm hurriedly recoiled. Her cheeks flushed a little.

"I think I'll just take a walk," he replied, giving her a curt nod before rising from his seat on the bottom step.

The heels of Regina's boots clicked as she caught up with him, her hand suddenly grabbing his to make him stop. Jefferson whirled around, trying to ignore the fact that Regina hadn't released his hand.

"I could talk to Rumplestiltskin, if you want? Get him to change his mind?"

"He won't listen," Jefferson said, giving Regina a kindly smile of appreciation.

Her face brightened for a moment, growing ashen when she glanced down. Regina hastily dropped his hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.

"I better go and cast some spells," Regina said.

Jefferson watched her go back to the castle, his brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't want to listen to the voice in the back of his head that mixed with the rest of his worries. Pacing up and down the dark one's barren garden, Jefferson pushed away the mess of thoughts, muttering to himself over and over-

"I have to see Elizabeth on her birthday. I have to."


	19. Chapter 19

The next five days seemed to drag by as Jefferson travelled the realms, stealing items for Rumplestiltskin. Whilst travelling, Jefferson had pocketed various fairy tales to read during his curfew at the castle. During his evenings, Jefferson tried to spend as much time in his room as he could and avoid any more conversation than was necessary with either the dark one or Regina.

It only took a day or so for Jefferson to suspect that whilst he'd been recuperating in the land without colour, Regina had changed. It wasn't just what Rumplestiltskin was teaching her- she was growing crueller by the day, yet refused to leave Jefferson's side.  
Jefferson hoped it was just his imagination, but he couldn't help notice that her corsets were getting tighter and lower cut each time he saw her.

Casting a quick glance in her direction, Jefferson was disheartened to catch Regina not-so-subtlety staring at him. Her blood red lips curved into a rather coy smile. She hadn't noticed the candle she was supposed to light with magic was completely engulfed in purple flames. Jefferson stifled a laugh, and Regina raised an eyebrow, her eyes still fixated on him.

But Regina had no effect on him-not like Elizabeth. Elizabeth, who hadn't left his mind at all over the past few days, her melodic voice and bookish-charm proving more attractive than anything Regina had attempted...

Rumplestiltskin gave a sharp cough and Jefferson turned back to face him.

"As I was saying," the imp snapped, "this is the wrong wand. I specifically asked for the blue fairy's."

Jefferson shrugged his mind elsewhere. Visiting the fairies hadn't been pleasant, especially with his rather hasty exit after one of them had realised he was the thief who'd pinched two bags of fairy dust the previous month.

"Are you even listening? You seem rather distracted recently: please don't tell me Regina's caught your eye now."

"Of course not!" Jefferson said.

Rumplestiltskin gave him a disbelieving look.

"Well it certainly does look that way," he hissed, "because Regina can't keep her eyes off you! Her powers are growing, and she doesn't need any distractions."

Jefferson considered for a moment, a thought striking him.

"I know you said you wouldn't, but can you just give me tonight off? In return, I'll make her little infatuation go away so you can focus on developing her magic."

"You must do one other thing for me too," Rumplestiltskin said, "If I give you a certain task, no matter how difficult or life-threatening it is, you must carry it out: exactly as I say."

The promise of freedom was too much for Jefferson to resist, the word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself:

"Deal!"

Jefferson hesitated, "but what's the task?"

Rumplestiltskin gave one of his infamous grins, his eyes sparkling dangerously, "Oh you'll know when I tell you. So, I suppose it's a deal. Off you go."

Jefferson hurried from the potions room, his hands itching to activate the hat and see Elizabeth again. Giving Regina a backward glance, he was a little unnerved to catch her eye yet again.

_'I'll deal with her later._'

* * *

It was already dusk by the time Jefferson arrived in the land without colour; the late evening sky was its perpetual shade of grey, the tall bushes keeping him hidden from the lights of the castle. He made his way through the garden, and for a moment Jefferson was almost tempted to pluck one of his red roses that Elizabeth had planted and present it to her.

That was the sort of romantic gesture any woman would love, but he knew she'd be horrified if he ripped up the plants that she been tendering out. Instead, Jefferson headed to the back door Elizabeth had told him about. He tried the handle, which gave a begrudging twist, though it refused to budge.

Jefferson went round to the balcony by Elizabeth's bedroom, where a dim candlelight cast a white glow through the open window. He opened his mouth to call up to her, but remembered Victor was probably also awake, and his plan would be ruined if the doctor discovered his presence.

Jefferson began to search the undergrowth, finding a reasonably sized stone and hurling it at the wall by her window. Soon enough, a figure emerged at the window. Upon seeing Jefferson, Elizabeth gave a bashful smile before vanishing and remerging a few minutes later at the now unlocked servant's door.

"We should be safe- Victor's working in his laboratory all evening."

Jefferson carefully followed her upstairs, her hand being the only guide in the pitch black of the castle. They finished clambering the flights of steep steps and snuck down the darkened hallway. Jefferson pushed the door shut behind them once they were inside Elizabeth's room. He listened for a moment for any other sound of Victor investigating, but there was no sound of footsteps.

Satisfied that they were safe from prying eyes, Jefferson embraced Elizabeth, wrapping his arms around the small of her back before placing a kiss on her forehead. She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed under the candlelight.

"Happy birthday," Jefferson said, sitting down on her bed to take the parcel out of his satchel.

"You didn't have to get me anything!" Elizabeth exclaimed as he handed her the parcel, her fingers unwinding the ribbon and tearing open the paper, "You know all I need is you."

"It's your birthday; you have to have a gift," Jefferson replied, grinning at her gasp as the necklace fell into her hands, sparkling like a multi-coloured star in the black and white room.

Jefferson took it from her and placed the necklace around her neck, its pendant resting between her collarbones.  
He fastened the clasp, his hands moving down to her shoulders and Jefferson admired how the necklace looked on her. The colourful pendant rose and fell as she inhaled and exhaled, brightening up her ivory skin.

"Thank you, it's beautiful," Elizabeth smiled up at him, her dark eyes illuminated in the light of the necklace.

"That's not all," Jefferson announced, "I have somewhere to take you."

* * *

"Where exactly are we going?" Elizabeth asked, attempting to pull off the cravat that was covering her eyes. Jefferson reached over her head and put it back in place, before whispering in her ear,

"I can't tell you that: it would ruin the surprise."

They had long left the gardens of Frankenstein castle, and Jefferson was leading Elizabeth through the winding woods to the steel door that marked the entrance to the hat's hall of portals.

"Now, do you trust me?" He asked, suddenly serious.

"I wouldn't have allowed myself to be kidnapped if I didn't!" Elizabeth laughed.

Jefferson took her closest hand, and pushed open the door with his free hand. They stepped through, the brightness of the hall hurting Jefferson's eyes after the dullness of the land without colour.  
He untied the cravat, and Elizabeth's eyes opened. Her mouth dropped slightly and she stared in wonder at the doors. Elizabeth slowly circled around, amazed by the colours that vibrantly painted the hall. She wandered up and down, studying each door in detail. Eventually Elizabeth stopped at the looking glass. Her smiling reflection looked back: only she was in colour.

"I told you that you were beautiful," Jefferson said genuinely.

For once, he didn't feel like his words were trying to impress or flirt. He could be honest with Elizabeth, and Jefferson felt a surge of happiness as she smiled at the compliment. In the mirror he could see the blush that tinted her cheeks.

He looked at his own reflection, messing around with his fringe before running a hand through the curling edges of Elizabeth's hair.  
In colour, it was a lighter brown than the jet black in her own realm, and her eyes were brown, rather than blue like Victor's had been when he was in colour.

"I'm guessing from your expression that I don't look much like Victor? I was adopted, remember?"

"Of course," Jefferson said, thinking back to the painting in the castle. He wrapped his arm around Elizabeth's shoulder. Jefferson gestured towards the mirror.

"Do you want to enter Wonderland?"

"Wait, there's a land through there?"

"There's a land through all of these doors," Jefferson explained and reached out to the looking glass.

His fingers plummeted into the rippling glass.  
Elizabeth copied and with a lurch, they were pulled them through. Surrounded by tall flowers, Elizabeth gazed in amazement at the land before her.

"Who…are…you?" A voice demanded, and they both turned to see the caterpillar, sat on its mushroom, puffing blue smoke at them.

"Elizabeth Frankenstein," Elizabeth replied, curtsying to the creature. It looked at Jefferson expectantly, but he shook his head at the caterpillar.

"Come on Elizabeth, there's plenty more to show you."

They progressed slowly, although Jefferson didn't mind having to wait for Elizabeth, who observed everything, large or small, thrilled by the bright colours.

She ran to catch up with him after a lengthy conversation with the smirking Cheshire cat.

"That cat's grin reminded me of yours," Elizabeth said, linking arms with Jefferson as they strolled down one of the many paths.

"I have a much more sophisticated smile!" Jefferson retorted, smiling wildly at her.

Elizabeth laughed, giving him her best crazy grin. They turned the corner, reaching the clearing Jefferson had been attempting to lead Elizabeth to. He flicked his hand, a rush of magic flowing through him, and a tea party appeared. Jefferson made chairs appear too, and they sat down, Elizabeth at the head of the table. The tea cups were already filled with steaming tea, a platter of strawberries with chocolate sauce and biscuits on the saucers.

"Mmm...I was getting hungry," Elizabeth said, taking a strawberry and slathering it with chocolate. Jefferson took the nearest teacup and sipped the steaming drink, settling back in the chair.

* * *

Jefferson had no idea how long they'd been sat there, drinking never-ending cups of tea and talking, Elizabeth managing to get through as many strawberries as she possibly could. Unbeknownst to her, chocolate covered her lips and half her face. Jefferson stifled a laugh and Elizabeth frowned in confusion at him.

"You've got a little something on your cheek," he explained, leaning over and kissing her chocolate coated lips.

Elizabeth let out an indignant cry and pushed him off before delicately wiping her cheeks with a handkerchief. She looked up at the setting sun.

"I guess we ought to be getting back?" Elizabeth asked despondently.

Jefferson consulted his pocket watch, which read 6 o'clock. The time in each realm differed greatly, and he hoped it wasn't already daylight in the land without colour.

Jefferson nodded in agreement and rose, brushing the biscuit crumbs off his coat. Elizabeth pouted, and for a second Jefferson wished they could stay in Wonderland, leave all their problems behind for endless tea parties, but the thought of Victor discovering Elizabeth's disappearance lingered in his mind. That would ruin the rest of the plan. Jefferson snapped his fingers and a brief cloud of magic consumed the pair as he transported them back to the looking glass.

All too soon they had returned to the land without colour, Elizabeth fading back into black and white. The castle was silent as they snuck back into Elizabeth's room, though nothing stirred in the darkness. Jefferson presumed Victor had gone to sleep, for it was now early morning, but dawn hadn't yet broken. They reached Elizabeth's bedroom and Jefferson lingered in the doorway. He didn't want to risk being caught, but never had he wanted to stay so badly. Elizabeth didn't seem to want him to leave either, taking hold of Jefferson's hands.

""You know, we never did get around to that dancing lesson," Elizabeth said.

"What do you wish to dance?"

"A waltz, please."

Jefferson took a step forward, his feet level with Elizabeth's. He placed one hand on her shoulder, the other rested gently on her waist.

"Just follow my lead," he instructed, taking a step to the left as he began to hum a simple waltz tune.

Jefferson was pleasantly surprised to find that Elizabeth wasn't as bad a dancer as she claimed to be, quickly picking up the moves, her feet following his with ease. As her confidence increased, they began to move around the room and Jefferson spun her around. Elizabeth circled before stepping in as he did, her body close enough to Jefferson's for him to feel her lungs moving against his chest, her slender waist on his hips.

They fitted together perfectly, hearts beating in unison as they continued to dance. Their feet barely moved, Elizabeth's head nestling into Jefferson's neck so that all his senses were filled by the tantalising scent of strawberries. Elizabeth moved her head away and gazed up at him.

"You're grinning like that cat again," she whispered.

Jefferson leant forward so that his lips brushed her ear and replied:

"I've just realised something- my business partner could offer me all the gold in the world and I wouldn't accept it, if it meant losing you. You're the only thing that's ever meant more to me than money."

Elizabeth kissed his cheek in response, her fingers massaging the back of his neck. Jefferson moved his hands upwards so that they cradled her slender waist. Looking straight into her eyes, he smiled and said,

"I love you."


	20. Chapter 20

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that," Elizabeth murmured.

Jefferson kissed her again, overwhelmed by the sensations that buzzed under his skin.

'_I've never felt like this about any of those barmaids, any lady or princess._'

Elizabeth kissed him back, and Jefferson subconsciously began to undo Elizabeth's corset. He'd had plenty of practice and nimbly undid the garment, slipping her dress from her skin whilst her fingers brushed against him as she unbuttoned his shirt and tugged off his cravat.

Jefferson suddenly stopped, his hands snapping away guiltily- even though he's amended the will, Elizabeth's wedding the following day still strayed in his mind.

"Can't we just forget about that, for one night?" Elizabeth softly asked, reading his mind.

Her wide eyes sparkled vivaciously and she grabbed Jefferson, wrapping her arms around his back, pulling him back again. She settled down on the edge of her bed. As Jefferson's hands had strayed back onto her body, he was flung onto the bed beside her.

"I love you, and that's all that matters."

Elizabeth delicately whispered in his ear and he kissed her neck in response. Soft wisps of hair landed on his skin. Everything seemed to blur into a whirl: the gentle brush of her skin against his, her hair, dark eyes and the intoxicating scent of strawberries. Taking a gasp for air, Jefferson kept kissing Elizabeth as he let the sensations, that made every inch of him feel wondrously alive, take over.

* * *

Jefferson opened an eye, surprised to find he was bathed in a bright sunlight that streamed through the fluttering curtains. He blinked hazily in the light, frowning in confusion at his surroundings.

_'This isn't my bed, and it's too extravagant to belong to a barmaid.'_

For a moment Regina came into his mind, but the lack of colour reminded Jefferson where he was, though previous night was still a blur.

Giving a relieved sigh, Jefferson rolled over to see a sleeping Elizabeth by his side. She was facing away from him, the sheets curled underneath her chin, dark waves spread out over her pillow. For a moment, Jefferson lay in bed, holding into the warm contented glow inside of him, but waking Elizabeth was too hard to resist. He leant over, stroking a stray curl of hair before whispering in her ear:

"Morning beautiful."

There was a muffled scream into the pillow, and Elizabeth thrashed about between the sheets before sitting up with a start.  
She turned to face him, her face completely white, eyes wide with fright. Elizabeth stared in surprise at him for a moment, suddenly relieved.

"I thought you were the...wait: what are you doing...oh!" Elizabeth cried, stopping short as their eyes met and they came to the same realisation. She blushed furiously, tightly clutching the bed-sheets to keep her bare skin covered.

"I bet last night was the best birthday of your life," Jefferson said, grinning, "but I'm sorry I scared you."

In apology, he reached out to touch her shoulder, craning his neck up to kiss her. Jefferson began to whisper in her ear of how they could spent the day, Elizabeth giggling and hitting him with the pillow. She suddenly froze, her glowing cheeks paling again.

"The day after my birthday...my wedding day..." She murmured faintly, glancing at the doorway as though she half expected either Victor or the Count to burst in.

For a moment they were both still, before registering the situation and surging into life again. Jefferson stumbled out of the bed and hurriedly pulling on his clothes. His silver pocket watch had half slipped out from his shirt pocket and Jefferson could just see the hands were pointed at 8 o'clock.

"The wedding will only be in a few hours," Elizabeth cried frantically, her white-knuckled hands clutching the roots her hair.

"Don't worry," Jefferson called, winding his cravat back around his neck, "you won't marry him, I promise. And I'll be there, like in our plan. I just need to give my business partner the slip first. But it's all going to plan."

Jefferson grabbed his hat and gave Elizabeth one last kiss, though she pushed him off.

"You have to go!" Elizabeth urged, her voice shaking slightly as she called to him:

"Just remember, that I will always love-"

She was cut off by the approaching footsteps on the landing. Casting Elizabeth one last glance, Jefferson leapt into the hat. As the hat pulled him through, he heard the door to Elizabeth's room flying open, before both Jefferson and his hat vanished from sight.

* * *

Jefferson landed in the forest to find the early morning sunshine from the land without colour had been replaced by an orangey-red sky, and he suspected it was late evening.

He turned in the direction of the dark one's castle before remembering the deal he'd made. The issue of Regina still hadn't been addressed. Jefferson knew it would be pointless to return to Rumplestilstkin until he had fulfilled the deal and that as Regina had only been staying at the castle during the day, she was most likely to be at her own castle.  
Turning on his heel, Jefferson headed south towards the royal castle.  
As Jefferson walked, he began to regret this part of the deal: breaking into the castle would be easy enough, but Jefferson had no idea how he was going to get Regina away from the watchful eye of the King or his guards- let alone what he'd say.

He reached the boundary to King Leopold's kingdom by sundown, flashing his royal passport at the guard, still with no idea how to approach the task at hand. The castle was situated further in than the boundary, and Jefferson had to pass through a few small villages before reaching the castle walls. Gazing up at the tall glass spirals that jutted up into the darkening sky, Jefferson was disheartened to realise there was no way in except the main gates.

'_If I try and enter through the gates, I'll be hauled up in front of the King faster than I can say Rumplestiltskin. The only other way is..._'

Quickly checking there were no guards around to see, Jefferson clicked, willing his magic to take him directly into the castle. Regina's retellings of how dull the castle was served him well, for Jefferson reappeared within the castle walls in one piece. Hoping that he'd landed near Regina's chambers, he headed down the corridor, shrinking back into an alcove at the sound of voices.

"It's no wonder the King's away again," one of the guards laughed lowly, "I'd be far away too if I was married to our new Queen!"

The other guard gave a grunt of agreement and as they continued wandering down the corridor, muttering remarks concerning Regina. Deciding to have a little fun, Jefferson impatiently tapped his heel on the stone floor, the faint tap ringing out across the hall.

"Did you hear that?" The taller guard asked, looking around suspiciously, though Jefferson was hidden from sight in the shadows.

His companion shrugged and they continued chatting. Jefferson waited until they were almost beside him before letting out a soft whistle. Both guards leapt in surprise, their conversation cut off in their shock as they glanced around.

"Bet it was the Queen, they say she's a witch!" One cried, still searching the seemingly empty corridor for the cause of the noises.

"Can't be, she's behind that door in her chamb-" The guard froze as he turned to see Jefferson.

Before he could utter another word, Jefferson punched him in the jaw, sending the guard stumbling backwards, clutching his bleeding mouth. The other brandished his sword, but Jefferson had already retrieved the poppy dust from his satchel. He blew a few ground up seeds at each guard, and they fell to the floor, fast asleep.

Jefferson then tried the door that the guards had referred to, his own magic unlocking the spells Regina had put on it. The door swung open and he stepped inside, pushing away any lingering apprehension. Jefferson knew he needed to appear confident in order keep the upper hand.

The chamber appeared empty at first: red silk linen spread neatly across the bed like blood, everything precisely in its place. As Jefferson silently stepped further in he could see that Regina was hunched over a dresser, concocting a foul smelling green potion inside one of the castle glasses.

'_No wonder they think she's a witch,_' Jefferson thought, before loudly clearing his throat and announcing,

"You know, if you want to poison dear Snow White, you really shouldn't make it so obvious."

Regina whirled around, her expression half shocked, half amused at the sight of Jefferson.

"That royal passport of yours doesn't grant you access to my bed chamber," she sultrily replied.

Jefferson ignored her comment and continued:

"More importantly, you can't just practice magic in the castle. Any of guards to look in and see!"

"I have enchantments on the door," she sighed dismissively, "so if anyone looks in they just see me sleeping, though I suppose you got around those enchantments."

"Indeed I did, though I'm not here to lecture you Regina. We need to talk, about something else."

"Oh," Regina pouted, getting up from her seat and sidling up to him.

"You see, the thing is..." Jefferson began, clearing his throat, suddenly slightly tongue-tied as Regina came closer.

She rested her hand on his chest and slowly lifted her head to look up at him.

"It's not like you to be at a loss for words Jefferson," she teased, stepping around him, her hand still straying across his chest, before slowly adding,  
"could this little chat be about Elizabeth?"

Jefferson stared at her, agape as she smirked up at him.

"Oh yes, I know all about you and that wizard's foolish little sister," Regina crooned, "no wonder you were so keen to have last night off-you wanted to be with her for her birthday. Rumplestiltskin would not be pleased if he knew of your whereabouts for not just last night, but these past few months."

"Rumplestiltskin doesn't need to know, and you better not tell him," Jefferson said, finding his voice as he registered the malicious glint in Regina's eye.

"I really don't think you're in a position to be threatening me: and trust me, I'm doing you a favour," Regina said, so close to Jefferson that he could feel her breath against the nape of his neck.

He shifted uncomfortably, rocking on his heels, but Regina's arms were wound around his upper body, holding him still.

"What do you mean?"

"I looked through that orb you got from Oz and saw glimpses of your past, present and future with that girl, Elizabeth. She's getting married today, isn't she?"

Without waiting for a response, Regina continued,

"Trust me, from what I saw, it's better off if you two stay apart."

"Better for you, you mean! How dare you let your feelings for me stop me from having happiness!" Jefferson said angrily, startling Regina.

He broke free from her grip and started for the door.

"I don't have any feelings for you- except pity. You're too deluded by your love for Elizabeth to see that you two being apart would be a far better future for both of you. If you really loved her, you'd let her have that better future, wouldn't you?"

"What, with her vampire fiancé?" Jefferson spat, turning to face Regina, "any future is better than that one! Now let me leave!"

"Not until you listen!" Regina snapped, waving her hand so that the door to the hall locked, thick vines weaving over it, "please, believe me when I say that keeping you from Elizabeth is for the best!"

"No! I'm meant to be with her- I'm the one that she's meant to marry! Jefferson cried, "I need her: I love her!"

As his pleading turned to desperation, Jefferson suddenly remembered his hat and reached up to grab it and make his escape. To his horror, his fingers only touched air and he looked up to find the hat had been prised from his head and was entangled in the vines.

Furiously, he tore at them, breathing heavily as he strained to reach his hat. His magic came easily from his heightened emotions, and the vines began to untwist.

But before Jefferson could even brush the tip of his hat, he felt Regina grab his arm and twist it behind his back. The thick vines from the door caught around him, twisting him around and pulling him tightly to the wall.

"I'm sorry, but you leave me with no other choice," Regina said unclenching her free hand to reveal the pouch of poppy dust that she'd stolen from him.

Writhing to be free, Jefferson fought against the fierce vines Regina had conjured, but he couldn't escape the poppy dust: or the deep slumber that overcame him.


	21. Chapter 21

_Pounding raindrops from the grey sky hit his clothes whilst he desperately tears at the large church doors. Their heaviness is overwhelming, the clock ticking away, he's too late, too late...  
Finally the doors give way, swinging open and sending him stumbling forward. A sea of heads turns, the disgruntled congregation turning to stare. Panting, he clutches his hat and slowly rises, lifting his gaze so that it can stray down the endless aisle. At the very end of the aisle stand two figures: one dark and tall, the other petite and wearing white. In the colourless church, he can see the glint of gold as the ring slides onto her finger._

_"No! No!" He screams, trying to move, but his feet are frozen. He can only stand and stare, the congregation oblivious to his cries, and watch the dark figure tightly grasp the one in white.  
_

* * *

__"No_!_ Elizabeth..."

Jefferson's eyes snapped open, his heart racing as feebly cried out of Elizabeth. Shivering despite the sweat that had formed on his forehead, Jefferson blinked, slowly growing accustomed to the near darkness he was in. He saw the iron bars before him and ominous realisation set in. Jefferson leapt to his feet, panic filling him. He rushes to the bars, rattling them with all his strength. Their clangs broke the silence, though the bars remained firmly in place. Jefferson circled around, staring at the rough cave walls that encased him. Even the dim window had bars across it.

_'There's no way of getting out of here,'_ Jefferson thought despondently, slumping down to the floor. Fumbling around in his pockets, Jefferson found his pocket watch. It had cracked, but the hands still ticked: 9 o'clock. He had no idea of that was the same day as Elizabeth's wedding, or the day after, or even a week after. Weakened by the drowsiness of the poppies and his hopelessness, Jefferson swung the pocket watch back and forth miserably.

_'There's no way to get to Elizabeth...I may even be too late already...I've lost her...'_

Overwhelmed by self-pity, Jefferson let out a sob, curling up his knees and burying his head, tears streaming down his face. For a while he remained in his catatonic state, rocking back and forth as he wept.

He barely noticed something scrambling up his trouser leg until Jefferson felt something tiny and wet nudge his forehead. Startled, Jefferson lifted his head and gave a shout of horror. Perched on his knee was a white mouse, it's red eyes gleaming up at him. The noise nibbled comfortingly at his coat pocket, and Jefferson pulled back out his pocket watch.

"I'm too late," he sighed to the mouse, brushing it off from him. Falling to the floor, the mouse gave an indignant squeak and clambered back into him.

"Get off!"

Jefferson looked up at approaching footsteps and he saw Regina's swishing dress coming closer.

"Talking to mice now?" She called teasingly, though Regina sounded a little pitying.

He opened his mouth to beg her to let him go, but Jefferson spotted what Regina held in her hand. Glancing down at the mouse, he was struck with an idea.

"I just want to talk to someone," Jefferson said, slowly rising and heading for the bars that separated them. He trailed his eyes upwards, making sure they lingered on Regina's chest before rising and meeting her eyes. Smirking at her, Jefferson stepped closer so that their clothes touched between the bars.

"Maybe you're right about Elizabeth," he whispered, "maybe I'm better off with someone else."

Regina's flushed face revealed her thoughts and hers hands tentatively reached through the bars to cup his chin, whilst Jefferson wound his around her back, making sure her eyes remained locked on his...

In one swift motion Jefferson grabbed the hat from Regina and jerked his hand back, sliding it through the bars. Stepping back, Regina's hands were forced away and she gripped the bars in anger, opening her mouth. Instead of words, Regina let out a cry of pain and she let go the bars that burnt her hands.

"What have you done?"

"It's quite a simple little enchantment," Jefferson cockily replied, grinning as Regina understood: Jefferson had his means of escape- and she couldn't reach him.

"You sneaky bast-"

"Sorry Regina," Jefferson called over her, grabbing the mouse from the dungeon floor, "I must be off. I have a wedding to attend."

The hat fell to the floor, purple smoke filling the dungeon cell before engulfing Jefferson as he leapt through.

* * *

Jefferson hurried through the woods, the shadowy trunks blurring as he passed by, focused upon reaching the church before it was too late. As Jefferson reached the castle, he removed his pocket-watch and checked the time- 12:45

'_Fifteen minutes left…_'

Quickening his pace into a run, Jefferson went past the castle, coming to a halt at the end of the drive. The pathway wound down a hill, the village far in the distance. Cursing the Frankenstein's for living so remotely, Jefferson stared down the desolate path, the seconds dwindling by in his head. Re-tracing his steps, Jefferson caught sight of a carriage parked on the driveway, its horse waiting. Without even checking if anybody was inside, Jefferson climbed up on top and grabbed the reins, whipping them against the horse.

The horse jolted into life, pulling the carriage down the drive. Jefferson cracked the whip again, the horse growing faster as they hurtled down the path. A cool breeze stung at his eyes as they gained speed, dark clouds following them in the bleak sky. Just as Jefferson had begun to relax, the town coming into view, an unmistakeable voice from the carriage yelled up to him:

"Driver! I know I said to hurry, but this is ridiculous-"

Jefferson looked down to see just as Victor stuck his head out of the carriage, watching the doctor's face rapidly change from shock to anger.

"Jefferson! What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Trying to get to the wedding," Jefferson said, giving the whip another crack, "shouldn't you already be there?"

"Yes, I was delayed by my experiment…but don't try to distract me! You've been gone for a week- and now you decide to reappear on top of my carriage! Do you really think I'm just going to let you ruin Elizabeth's wedding?"

"You have to let me come: if I jump off now you'll be stranded without a driver. Now, some directions would be good."

Victor glared furiously at him as though he was considering throwing Jefferson off anyway before spitting out how to find the church from arriving in the town. Conscious of the ever-decreasing time, Jefferson kept the horse at a fast pace as they went past the dull grey buildings in the town centre, cutting between the swarms of people who milled around until they were back on another country path.

The trees and overgrown bushes arched over the path, darkening the sky above them as the horse and carriage whirled past. Breathing heavily as the minutes ticked away in his head, Jefferson prayed they were nearing the church. He gave the reins a hard pull as they skidded to a halt in front of pristinely white building with a steeple rising up above the trees in the yard. The carriage door swung open and Victor clambered out, stopping by the horse and looking back up at Jefferson, who had begun to climb down.

"I have to go: but you stay here. Don't even think of stepping foot in that church: I know you don't agree with this marriage, but this may be Elizabeth's one chance of happiness. Don't even think of being selfish enough to try and take that away from her. And I'll warn you now - the Count's friends are guarding the doors, and I'm sure you don't want to risk running into them again."

Jefferson kept his gaze locked onto Victor's until eventually the doctor turned away and headed to the church, Jefferson's eyes following him up the steps. Victor grasped the church door, then turned and looked back as if to check that Jefferson hadn't moved. Smirking at Victor, Jefferson waited until he had vanished into the church.

_'Why the hell did I change the will to let that git get the money?'_

He lingered a little longer, hoping he hadn't left it too late. To Jefferson's relief another carriage pulled in and a group of people, tall and pale like the Count got out. Seizing his chance, Jefferson slipped in front of the large party and stepped into the church.

"Excuse me- name?" The guard spat, talon fingers grasping Jefferson's shoulder and yanking him back.

Despite his plan, Jefferson's heart began to hammer in his chest and he muttered:

"Montague…Lord Montague."

The guard quickly scanned down the list, but before he could realise there were no Montagues, the cluster of vampires gave an impatient cough before chatting to the guard, giving Jefferson the chance to slip away. He kept close to the walls, almost fully swallowed up by the shadows, though there were plenty of people to keep him hidden.

The church seemed completely packed, and even though everyone was colourless, many seemed unnaturally pale and Jefferson got the feeling very few of the guests were human. Through the crowd Jefferson spotted Victor, talking to a burly vampire, and he shrunk back even further into the crevice. He knew he couldn't be seen yet.

When Jefferson next looked, Victor had gone and he realised the church had fallen eerily silent as a song began to ring out of the organ. To his mind, the monotonous music sounded more like a death procession than a wedding song. His musings vanished as the doors beside him were flung open. A chilling breeze fluttered through the church and every head turned, including Jefferson's.

A pallid apparition came through the doors, her brother by her side. Elizabeth was hardly recognisable to Jefferson: her face seemed sallow, her paper white dress completely draining her of any contours or shadows. Her dark hair was swept underneath the veil that trailed down her back and along the velvet floor.

She walked slowly in the silence broken only by the jarring chords from the organ. As she passed by Jefferson could see her hands were trembling, clutching a bouquet of white roses. He saw her glance nervously down each pew and he blinked back the tears that had sudden welled up in his eyes as he resisted the urge to step out from his hiding place.

Jefferson hadn't realised he'd been tensely holding his breath until Elizabeth reached the end of the aisle. Victor released his arm and stepped away, leaving Elizabeth by the Count. With everyone in position, the music stopped. The minister began to speak; Elizabeth had turned to face the Count as though she was frozen.

Desperately, Jefferson opened his dry mouth, but no words escaped him. He was still relying upon the plan working. He glanced back at the guards, but they were stood watching, appearing to have absolutely no intention of raising the alarm. Despair clenched in his stomach, though all Jefferson could do was stand and stare, desperately trying to think of an alternative plan.

The Count's cold voice rang out across the church, followed by the minister repeating the wedding vows to Elizabeth.  
Jefferson gazed out of the darkness at her, his heart tightly beating against his chest, pounding in his ears as he was forced to hear the words he'd been dreading.

"I…I don't!"

A stifled gasp rippled through the congregation. For a moment, everybody seemed to stare at Elizabeth in shock. The Count had stiffened; his face darkening dangerously as he registered what she'd said.

Jefferson could just see Elizabeth going to leave, but the Count grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her tightly back towards him. His head bent low as if he was whispering something to her.

Suddenly, there was a swift blur of white and a smacking sound echoed across the church. The Count recoiled, releasing Elizabeth. Jefferson wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but something had irked the vampires and most of the crowd had risen, angrily protesting.

In the confusion Elizabeth had been able to dart through the vampires that had completely forgotten her presence. As Elizabeth grew closer, Jefferson looked back at the doors: they were still being guarded. Just as she passed him, an idea hit him. Jefferson stuck out an arm and grabbed onto Elizabeth's hand, pulling her into the shadows.

"Go this way," he whispered and nodded towards a corridor leading off to their left, "on the count of three: one, two, go!"

As he'd counted down, Jefferson had pulled out the dungbombs he'd picked up in Hogsmeade and threw three into towards the pews before pushing Elizabeth forward and running. The foul odour only added to the confusion, though neither of them relaxed until they had reached a side door that led out of the church. Jefferson slammed the door behind them and locked it firmly, hearing the faint sounds of the vampires as they realised what had been released.

Gasping for air, Elizabeth clutched the nearby tree. She tugged off her veil, letting curls of hair fall over her flushed face.

"I can't believe I punched him! " Elizabeth cried, laughing as she looked up Jefferson, "and those stink-bomb things were brilliant!"

"Yes, but we're not safe yet: we have to go. Now."

Jefferson removed his hat and placed it on the grass, sprinkling some fairy dust on it.

"Wait! You mean we're going now? But I haven't packed, I can't go like this." Elizabeth said, motioning to her torn wedding dress.

"It doesn't matter; we really don't have much time," Jefferson said, twisting the hat.

The hat remained still and an edge of panic set in as the noise from the church grew louder. He added more fairy dust and gave the hat another spin. There was a sickening crack and the splintered door from the church was flung open.

"Elizabeth! Why did you have to punch him? They want your blood and -"

Victor stared at her, his gaze falling to that hat that had begun to enlarge before the trio.

"You're not going anywhere with him."

Jefferson had straightened up from being crouched over the hat and opened his mouth to explain.

"Why not?" Elizabeth demanded defiantly, "you can't make me stay here. I'm a grown woman- I can make my own decisions. It's not like you were much help in stopping me marrying the Count. If you want me to be happy, let me go."

"I want what's best for you," Victor replied, "and that was marrying the-"

"No it wasn't! And who are you to decide what's best for me?" Elizabeth interrupted, her voice breaking slightly, "look Victor, I don't want to argue with you anymore. I'm leaving with Jefferson, we'll visit soon, I promise, and the money, it's all yours, we've changed the will…"

The hat had reached its full size, swirls of magic covering their feet. Jefferson had released the mouse he'd pocketed and took Elizabeth's hand.

"It's time," he whispered, before addressing Victor, "I'll take good care of her, I promise."

Victor didn't look fully convinced but before Jefferson could continue, several vampires burst out of the church, the Count leading them. Tightening his grip around Elizabeth's hand, he caught her eye and nodded. With the magic swirling around them, they jumped.


	22. Chapter 22

Once again Jefferson found himself in the hat's hall of doors: the sudden jolt of colour making his head hurt. The past few minutes replayed in Jefferson's head and he turned to catch sight of Elizabeth.

She was no longer a ghostly black and white-the rosy tint to her skin was illuminated in the almost fluorescent glow from the doors around them.

"This...hat...is amazing!" Elizabeth cried excitedly, gazing around as she had done during her last trip.

"There'll be plenty of time to explore, I promise," Jefferson said, taking Elizabeth's hand.

For a moment he could hardly believe it, but the warmth of her skin flooding into him somehow made it true: Elizabeth was his.

"What are you thinking about?" Elizabeth asked jovially, her breath tickling his neck.

"How we don't need to be a secret any longer, nobody to keep us apart..."  
_  
'that's not true: there is still one person,'_ a voice whispered in his head and a grim realisation hit him.

Jefferson looked down into Elizabeth's eyes that were gleaming with excitement and quickly continued:

"There's someone I need you to meet. But afterwards, we can go back to mine and you can change, then how about a tour of my realm?"

"Sounds good," Elizabeth replied, squeezing Jefferson's hand, "which door is to the Enchanted forest?"

Jefferson pointed to the gnarled wooden door across the hall before walking over with Elizabeth. He swung open the door and Elizabeth nimbly climbed through, pulling Jefferson after her. Landing on his feet, Jefferson brushed off the dust that had flown up from the ground beneath him. His thoughts of the quickest route to the castle were broken by a soft moan at his feet. Glancing down, Jefferson realised it had come from a tangle of netting and leaves, before helping Elizabeth up.

"Thanks," Elizabeth sighed, clutching tightly to Jefferson as she gingerly got to her feet.

"You'll get use to landing soon," Jefferson said, noticing Elizabeth's wince as she moved her arm to pull away the twigs that had caught in her hair.

"It's fine, just pulled a muscle," Elizabeth muttered.

"No, let me heal it," Jefferson insisted, moving his hand purposefully across Elizabeth's arm.

A purple glow flitted along her skin. Elizabeth gave a relieved smile as the pain eased, though there was still concern in her eyes.

"Should you really be using magic for simple things?"

"It doesn't matter. This place is pretty much limitless whereas magic was pretty scarce in the land without colour."

"That's not what I meant," Elizabeth replied, giving Jefferson a pointed look, "Victor warned me all magic comes with a price."

"Indeed it does, but it's all sorted," Jefferson said with a dismissive wave of his hand,  
"You see, the person that we are to visit is the one who keeps it that way."

Before Elizabeth could ask any more questions, Jefferson slipped his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the worn path between the trees that wound upwards.

As they walked, the clouds drifted behind them, allowing shafts of golden light to trickle down. The woodland was filled with sunlight, making the leaves a brighter green than ever, clusters of purple peonies and white elderflower protruding from the bushes.

"I can't believe I've spent eighteen years in boring black and white, when there are so many colours!" Elizabeth exclaimed, her fingers cupping the petals of a sunflower.

"You can pick as many flowers as you wish once we have paid our visit."

Jefferson's closeness made her jump, and he placed a kiss on her cheekbone before whispering:

"We're almost there."

Elizabeth's eyes followed his pointed finger and between the trunks were the turrets of a stone castle.

* * *

Upon arriving at Rumplestiltskin's castle a few minutes later, Jefferson strode up the steps. He stopped at the colossal oak doors, his hand poised to knock.

_'What if Regina told him? What am I supposed to use to cover up my disappearance?'_

Jefferson glanced back at Elizabeth, who was oblivious to his deliberation: observing the roses that grew around the castle walls. Swallowing hard, Jefferson pushed open the doors.

To his surprise, Rumplestiltskin was not spinning gold or casting a potion- instead the dark one was sat at the head of his grand dining table, a cup of tea steaming on it's saucer before him. Rumplestiltskin looked up and catching sight of Jefferson, a grin creased his lips.

"Finally decided to grace me with your appearance? That was your final chance and you did not stick to one evening. I want to know what gave you the impression you could break a deal?"

"I didn't break the deal: I took my evening off whilst sorting out Regina : it took longer than expected that's all,"

"Regina informed me you left her castle six hours ago."

Jefferson hesitated at that: no matter how much Regina had told Rumplestiltskin, any chance of an improvised alibi was ruined. All he could do was tell the truth.

"But I still had things to do with my evening, like collect my assistant," Jefferson interrupted, his confidence increasing at his business partner's initial taken back look.

Glaring at him from across the table, Rumplestiltskin quickly regained his composure, his grin resurfacing.

"An assistant?" He snapped, his voice dangerously quiet, "There is nothing in our deal about having an-"

"Her name is Elizabeth," Jefferson continued, ignoring Rumplestiltskin.

Desperate to keep talking, Jefferson looked over his shoulder to the castle gardens, hoping Elizabeth hadn't strayed too far. She was lingering apprehensively by the door, having heard her name. Elizabeth's gaze briefly met Jefferson's before he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside. A sudden gust of wind caught the door and it slammed behind Elizabeth, the loud bang echoing across the silent hall. Elizabeth had frozen by Jefferson's side, having caught sight of Rumplestiltskin. Even from the opposite end of the hall, she could see the green tinge of his scaled skin and sense the cold atmosphere that was electrified with the silent buzz of dark magic.

Snapping out of it, she then gave a hurried curtsy and a courteous nod before mumbling:

"I'm Elizabeth sir, Elizabeth Frankenstein."

"Frankenstein?" Rumplestiltskin asked impassively, though Jefferson could see the glint in his eyes.

"Yes sir."

"Rumplestiltskin is my name."

Elizabeth nodded, her voice growing steadier:

"I've heard Jefferson mention you to my brother- I suppose you are the one who has supplied him with gold each month?"

"Indeed," Rumplestiltskin replied, suddenly giving an exaggerated sigh, "but where are my manners? Come; take a seat- both of you."

Without giving either a chance to accept, the two seats either side of Rumplestiltskin had moved outwards for them. Casting Jefferson a glance, he nodded at Elizabeth and the both took the seats.

_'If he wants to play a game, then we may as well play.'_ Jefferson thought grimly, watching the dark one suspiciously as he began to chat to Elizabeth about her brother and enquiring about his work.

At first she remained guarded, but Jefferson knew Rumplestiltskin could charm as well as he could, and Elizabeth soon relaxed. She occasionally caught his eye, her wary look reminding Jefferson that Elizabeth was perhaps being more vigilant than she appeared.

Unable to push away his doubts any longer, Jefferson spoke,

"So I suppose you'll allow me to keep my assistant?"

Rumplestiltskin turned to face him, taking a deliberate sip from his cup as though considering.

"Mm...Yes. You'll be able to steal more with an assistant. I expect you to both be here at dawn tomorrow. I'm sure Elizabeth would appreciate a day's rest after her travels from the land without colour."

"Excellent, then we'll get going," Jefferson said, pushing his chair back and rising.  
Elizabeth followed, politely thanking Rumplestiltskin for the tea. Reaching the door, Jefferson caught her hand, dropping it as Rumplestiltskin called his name.

"Wait for me on the porch please, Elizabeth."

She slipped outside and Jefferson turned to his business partner as the door closed.

"Victor's sister, as your assistant? You better take good care of her- or it'll be on your head if Victor cuts his business ties with me."

"I'm sure Elizabeth is perfectly capable of taking care of herself," Jefferson coolly replied, trying to stay as nonchalant as he could.

"Of course," Rumplestiltskin's gaze hadn't left Jefferson since he'd closed the door behind Elizabeth, studying his expression. Jefferson kept his eyes on Rumplestiltskin, his confidence bolstered by the dark one's uncomfortable stare,

"Now, you do understand that your price of magic may be affected by you having an assistant?"

Jefferson shrugged indifferently: and tried to recall what his price was. He couldn't remember, though whilst in his thoughts he missed Rumplestiltskin knowing grin.

"Has Regina visited the castle today?" Jefferson asked, prompted by his recollections.

"No, she's been at the king's court all day. She sent me a brief message this morning to say that you ought to be on your way."

"I see."

With a tip of his hat, Jefferson strode out into the sunlit porch where Elizabeth was stood waiting.

"Well?"

"Well, how about I give you that tour of the enchanted forest I promised?"

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for not updating in a while. (Again) I've struggled with writer's block/ procrastination on this chapter but I promise I will update more frequently, definitely at the start of next week. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

The azure sky that was laced with clouds rippled in the clear water, a warm breeze coasting through the dense thickets of ferns that edged the woodland. For a moment, there was a serene silence, broken only by the chirp of birds nesting in the trees and the buzz of crickets on the stems of pondweed that rose from the water.

Lain on the grassy shore was a man, though his presence hadn't yet disturbed the peacefulness that surrounded him. He had been staring out into the lake, though with a lazy flick of his wrist, the velvet hat that beside him flipped up onto his head.

Jefferson straightened up, straining slightly to listen. The faint footsteps that tore through the trees were growing louder, making their way past the ferns. Tilting his head upwards as the footsteps reached him, Jefferson found himself face to face with an upside down Elizabeth, an indignant look upon her flushed features.

"You've been here for ages, haven't you? I searched everywhere!"

"I did wonder what was taking you so long," Jefferson smirked, looking back out onto the lake again. He felt Elizabeth's dress brush his side as she sat down beside him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"This is Lake Nostos," he explained, "it's well known across the land for having magical properties within the waters, though few have managed to harness them due to the sirens that guard the lake. Some say the water is powerful enough some that it can return something once lost; others believe a sip of the water can grant you a wish."

"What do you believe?"

"I believe it tastes pretty good."

After rummaging around in his satchel, Jefferson produced two silver cups and knelt at the water's edge. He dipped the cups into the lake, retrieving them as the water began to swirl around them. Scrambling backwards, a pale arm rose from the now murky water, the slender fingers writhing, talon nails grasping into the air. Elizabeth let out a startled gasp and the arm vanished back into the water.

"Was that a siren?" Elizabeth asked.

Jefferson nodded and handed Elizabeth one of the cups. He noticed her worried glance at the water and said,

"Sirens tempt men to a watery grave by taking the appearance of a beautiful woman, though the siren knows that won't tempt me with you here."

Elizabeth blushed, averting her gaze into the depths of the cup, her reflection as clear as though she was looking into a mirror.

"Go on then, make a wish." Jefferson said, drinking from his own cup.

A little uncertainly, Elizabeth brought the cup to her lips and drank. She placed the empty cup on her lap, her expression changing into a smile.

"It does taste pretty good."

"I told you: so, what did you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true!" Elizabeth replied, her smile growing broader as she leant over and whispered in his ear, "but it may involve you wearing that hat….and not much else."

"Well that can easily be arranged," Jefferson said, sneakily placing a kiss on her neck before pulling out his pocket watch, "it's already five and our magical mystery tour of the enchanted forest is almost over. The only place you haven't seen is my own."

Tucking his pocket watch and the cups back into the satchel, he stood up and took Elizabeth's hands, pulling her up in a flurry of ripped lace and hair that streamed like ribbons in the wind before reaching up for his hat.

"Is it far to your house?" Elizabeth asked, eyeing the hat nervously.

"Only a mile or two, I just figured it'd be quicker with the hat."

"Couldn't we walk- it seems silly to use the hat when we could walk on such a lovely day?"

"Of course," Jefferson said, taking Elizabeth's hand and breaking into a run, pulling her up the bank behind him.

Her laughter was a symphony for his ears, ringing out across the woodland. They slowed at the muddy track of road, strolling amiably side by side, the wilderness stretching out before them. There wasn't another soul in sight, apart from the swallows that flitted over their heads, darting from one tree to another.

* * *

Jefferson had just been recounting an anecdote from his meeting with the rather icy queen of Arendelle when the impatient rustling of bushes cut him off. He glanced over his shoulder, his unease resurfacing. For a while Jefferson had been suspicious they were being followed and prepared himself for whoever had been tailing them.

A pair of reproachful brown eyes peered out from the leaves, and an elegant deer traipsed out, its movements stunted by bewilderment as it cautiously approached them.

"Poor thing, it's scared…" Elizabeth said.

The deer had frozen before them. With a sudden jerk of its head, the deer scampered away, kicking up clouds of dust behind it as it vanished back into the woods.

"Of us," Elizabeth finished mournfully.

She looked up at Jefferson, whose grip around her had tightened, though he was searching through the trees. There was a clatter of hooves and for a moment Jefferson was as frozen as the deer. He grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders, hurriedly backing to the side of the road.

"Elizabeth, we need to hide in the bracken-"

It was too late: the royal carriage had swept onto the road, pulled by a dozen horses, hurtling past them. Before Jefferson could think they'd pass by, the horses suddenly came to a halt. The carriage stopped exactly where the pair stood and the ornate door swung open.

Out stepped Regina, grinning smugly at them. She glanced over at the horses that were now tethered by the driver and gave a regal wave of her hand as if greeting Jefferson and Elizabeth. Immediately, the horses began to buck and resist the reins.

"Well see to the horses!" Regina snapped to the guards.

They nodded and hurried away, leaving Regina with Jefferson and Elizabeth.

"Jefferson," Regina purred, smirking as she met his eye.

"Queen Regina," Jefferson said, biting his tongue to remain civil, though he returned her look with a glare.

"I see this must be your latest barmaid," Regina said idly, without a glance at Elizabeth.

"I'm not a barmaid! I'm his assistant actually and-" Elizabeth cried and Jefferson tightened his firm grip around her, lightly treading on her toe to silence her.

At this, Regina acknowledged Elizabeth, her eyes trailing down Elizabeth's ripped, muddy wedding dress with a look of utter disgust.

"So I see…I'm not even going to ask about the wedding dress…Now Jefferson, I have some business I need you to take care of: just a quick trip to the Agrabah kingdom and pick up some Agrabahn vipers-"

"Firstly," Jefferson interrupted, "those vipers are deadly. I'm not going to risk my life trying to get them. Secondly, I already have plans with my assistant."

"Well, I can't delay those 'plans' now can I?" Regina said, dropping her façade, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"No, you can't, so we'll be going now. Oh, and Regina: I'd be careful using magic in front of the guards." Jefferson nodded over at the horses, still bucking wildly.

"They're on my side- it's all part of my plan for the crown. I just need to take it from the King's head." Regina hissed, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"Good luck with that. Come along Elizabeth, I'm sure the Queen needs to be back at the castle."

Giving Regina one last, angered glare, Jefferson took Elizabeth's arm and lead her down the path. A few moments later he watched Regina's carriage sail past, the horses behaving normally once more. Once the carriage was well out of sight, Elizabeth spoke up:

"So that's Queen Regina? I think Victor mentioned her once or twice: isn't she being mentored by Rumplestiltskin?"

"Queen evil bitch more like," Jefferson muttered, "but yes, she is the queen of Leopold's kingdom and is being mentored by Rumplestiltskin. You don't need to worry about her- if she makes any comments to you I'll stick one of those Agrabahn vipers up her-"

"Jefferson- which house is yours?" Elizabeth hurriedly said, pointing to small cottages that they had approached, the woodland path trailing away beneath their feet.

"My house isn't any of those! See that mansion, on top of the hill? That's my humble abode."

Grinning at Elizabeth's surprised look as she gazed up towards the mansion casting a huge shadow from the afternoon sunshine down onto above the village beneath. Jefferson too admired the place he called home: his job meant he was rarely ever at the magnificent residence, though Jefferson wasn't about to admit that to Elizabeth.

"Come on then: I'm still waiting for my wish to be granted," Elizabeth said softly, smiling slyly, though her eyes twinkled.

"Alright," Jefferson said, "we better get going."

With that, he broke into a run and dashed up the hill. It was steeper than he remembered and as he slowed, Elizabeth caught up with him.

"I recommend you save your energy for later," she teased, tugging off the flower braid she had worn and slipping it over Jefferson's hat. He gave a cry of horror and raced after her, a foolish grin overcoming his features as he watched Elizabeth: filled with a wild freedom, eyes shining with hope, a smile that could light up realms in black and white or colour. For the first time that he could truly remember, Jefferson could feel that freedom too.


	24. Chapter 24

Jefferson sat at the oak dining table, rubbing away the sleep from the corners of his eye, the hazy kitchen growing clearer. The log burning stove was crackling across the room, a kettle perched on top. Jefferson stared into the flames, watching the orange embers flicker, consuming the logs.

"Hey,"

Jefferson started at the voice, relaxing as Elizabeth placed her lips to his ear, the lingering scent of musk and pine cones filling his senses.

"It's only me!" She said, sliding into the empty chair opposite him.

Elizabeth unceremoniously dumped an overflowing basket onto the table top. A few blackberries fell and rolled across the table. Both Jefferson and Elizabeth reached for them, his hand resting on hers as they caught the stray berries. Jefferson shared a smile with her before pinching the blackberry and eating it.

"You wouldn't mind getting the kettle?" He asked, nodding over at the whistling kettle.

Elizabeth poured them both cups of tea and washed the blackberries. Settling into her seat, she stirred them into her steaming porridge. Jefferson was still absent-mindedly stirring his tea: his own breakfast of toast remained untouched.

"You better eat up," Elizabeth said, glancing back at the ornate clock over the stove," Rumplestiltskin wants us at eight."

Jefferson didn't reply- he couldn't get the threat of Regina from his mind, and the mention of his business partner only furthered his worries. He couldn't shake the cynical musings at to why Rumplestiltskin had allowed him to have Elizabeth as his assistant and just how much the dark one knew.

_'Even if he has forgotten my infatuation: if Regina tells Rumplestiltskin of my true feelings...'_

"Jefferson- what's wrong?" Elizabeth's voice pulled him from his thoughts once more. She was looking at him with concern, immediately making him guilty.

"It wasn't last night, was it?" She asked tentatively, taking a sip of tea to hide her burning cheeks.

"No, no of course not!" Jefferson said truthfully, smiling fondly as he recalled the previous night.

Resolving to stop Elizabeth worrying about him, Jefferson pushed his fears away and ate the toast, taking the occasional blackberry from the basket.

"I'm amazed you managed to collect so many: I'm pretty sure there was only one bush when I brought this place."

"Oh there's more than one bush now!" Elizabeth laughed, looking over at the garden,

"I don't suppose you've been doing much gardening?"

"I may have many talents, but gardening isn't one of them. If you want, you could do up the garden: to make up for the one back in the land without colour?"

Elizabeth's face lit up at the offer and she nodded vigorously, swallowing the last of her tea. Jefferson had just finished his toast and he rose, checking the time.

"It'll take too long to walk- I'll go grab the hat."

He returned a few minutes later, fastening his cravat, the hat resting on his head. Elizabeth pulled back on the cloak that she'd been wearing in the garden and took Jefferson's arm as the hat began to spin before them.

"Hold on tight," Jefferson said, giving Elizabeth a reassuring smile before they jumped.

* * *

"What are we looking for again?" Asked Elizabeth, her voice somewhat relaxed, though Jefferson could see her apprehensive glances around the market place.

All around them, townspeople bustled by, eager to make the most of the pleasant Sunday morning. With so many people around, Jefferson knew pulling off their heist would be easier than ever. Elizabeth had already proved herself to be the perfect partner in the crime after several successful heists earlier in the day.

"A dream-catcher: specifically a brown one, with golden thread and dove's feathers," Jefferson replied, nodding over to a stall on the opposite side of the market, where a dream-catcher matching the description hung alongside a broken mirror.

Elizabeth turned her head, taking in the stall and it's contents before looking back at Jefferson.

"You do the talking- I'll steal. Remember the signal to leave?"

Elizabeth nodded, "You 'accidentally' catch your elbow in my side."

"Excellent. After this, we can report back and hopefully get the rest of the day off. How does exploring Arendelle sound?"

"Sounds good to me!" Elizabeth smiled, taking a deep breath before striding over to the stall selling the dream-catcher.

Jefferson strayed on the other side, watching as Elizabeth began to chat to the stall owner before wandering over. He pretended to browse through the oddities on sale, waiting for exactly the right moment to take the drean-catcher. Elizabeth had the stall owner, whom he suspected was a witch, distracted with questions on a peculiar object she'd picked up. Seizing his chance, Jefferson leant over as though he was closely observing the mirror, his hand reaching out to grab the dream-catcher.

Jefferson glanced into the mirror, stopping short at the reflection. As he stared, he felt like he was being pulled through the hat's portal- but instead through the mirror.

Suddenly, he was inside a room. The walls were lined with grey, tree patterned wallpaper, and various, rather expensive looking items were strewn around the room: though that wasn't what caught his eye. Sat on the desk was a hat- precisely like his. There was a pair of scissors beside the hat, and Jefferson realised there were more replicas of his hat, all dumped unceremoniously on the floor beneath the desk.

His confusion increased as he took in the rest of the room: a telescope, pointed at the house next door, a tea set with two cups set on saucers, as though there were two people, though Jefferson could only see the figure who was staring into the telescope. As the figure straightened up, Jefferson felt as though his heart had stopped as he realised who the figure was: him.

He was older, dressed slightly differently- a scarf around his neck rather than a cravat. Nonetheless, Jefferson recognised himself, watching as the other him let out a silent cry, grabbing one of the cups and throwing it across the room, though Jefferson couldn't hear it smashing: or the words the other him was shouting.

As though someone had pulled him back by the collar of his coat, Jefferson seemed to snap out of the image, back to the market place. No time seemed to have passed- Jefferson could just hear Elizabeth finishing the question she'd begun asking before he'd looked into the mirror. Filled with the sudden desire to leave and try to comprehend what he'd seen, Jefferson quickly grabbed the dream-catcher and slipped it into his coat. He nudged Elizabeth's shoulder and she whirled around. Jefferson muttered an apology and hurried away, slipping into the crowd, listening out for Elizabeth making her excuses to leave.

"Stop thief!" A voice cried.

The crowd around him parted and to Jefferson's horror, the boy who'd shouted was pointing directly at him. Panic set in and Jefferson made a run for it, darting through the crowd as fast as he could. He'd made it as far as the market gates when an hand caught his arm. Defensively, Jefferson turned and threw a punch in the direction of the person who'd grabbed him. Breathing heavily, he turned properly to see Elizabeth backing away, her hands clamped over her nose.

"Elizabeth! I'm so sorry," he gasped, staring in horror at her.

Elizabeth had sunk onto a nearby stone, tentatively removing her hands to reveal blood was streaming down her face.

"I'll heal it," Jefferson offered.

Elizabeth shook her head, glancing over at the market, where the angered townspeople were trapped behind the gates.

"I put up the gate but it won't hold them," she said, her voice muffled, "we need to go!"

She rose and Jefferson wrapped an arm around her, hurriedly throwing his hat to the ground.

The jolt of the hat shook Elizabeth, the flow of blood from her nose only increasing, her hands completely covered in blood. Elizabeth had turned paler than she'd been in the land without colour, her knee's buckling as though she was going to faint. Keeping tight hold of her, Jefferson passed a trembling hand over her face. To his relief, the blood stopped, the colour returning to Elizabeth's cheeks as her fingers felt her nose, which was no longer broken.

"I'm afraid I'm not very good with blood," Elizabeth said.

"That's alright- usually when I steal I don't accidentally punch my assistant," Jefferson said, before adding in an undertone, "or get caught."

"You saw something in that mirror, didn't you? I looked over, and you seemed transfixed," Elizabeth said.

At first Jefferson didn't reply. Her words made the images come flooding back, though he had no idea how to describe what he'd seen.

"I saw myself," he replied eventually, his voice hollow.

Sensing she wasn't going to be getting a further explanation, Elizabeth gave a nod, reaching up to place a hand on his cheek, rousing Jefferson from his thoughts.

"Come on, the sooner we get these items to Rumplestiltskin, the sooner we can visit Arendelle," she softly reminded him.

"Indeed," Jefferson said, winding his fingers around Elizabeth's, her touch comforting him and he pressed his lips to her forehead before following Elizabeth through the wooden door to the enchanted forest.


	25. Chapter 25

Jefferson emptied his satchel onto the desk, taking out each item with care and setting them before Rumplestiltskin.

"Mm, you got the dream-catcher...very good," he murmured, lifting the dream-catcher up and holding it to the light.

"When haven't I got you something?" Jefferson asked with a smirk, casting a quick glance at Elizabeth, and they shared a knowing look.

Rumplestiltskin made a noise of agreement and unwound a long length of gold thread, which Jefferson stuffed into his satchel.

"It's good doing business with you," Jefferson said, before turning to Elizabeth, "let's go."

"Not so fast," a voice called, though when Jefferson turned, Rumplestiltskin had already left, and Regina was striding through the castle doors, "we still have business."

"I thought I made myself clear?" Jefferson said firmly, meeting Regina's gaze with a steely look.

"Well, we need to talk- in private," Regina said, pointedly glancing at Elizabeth.

"Whatever you have to say: you can say to us both. Elizabeth is my assistant, so any business with me is business with us both."

"It's fine," Elizabeth murmured, "I'll wait outside."

Regina watched as Elizabeth hurried to the door before whirling back around to face Jefferson, an eyebrow arched.

"Rather quiet isn't she? And young too- she hardly looks old enough to be travelling the realms and stealing with you."

"I'm sure if Elizabeth had something to say to you, she would-and actually, she just turned eighteen, which is only a year younger than you," Jefferson coolly replied, "now what do you want?"

"For you to get me the Agrabahn vipers."

Jefferson sighed and slipped his pouch of gold into his satchel.

"Regina, I've told you- I'm not risking my life for those snakes! It's not like you can pay me, Rumplestiltskin's already given me plenty of gold."

"You can't refuse your Queen," Regina hissed, a cruel smile forming, "and I can make you do my bidding without payment."

As she spoke, Regina grew closer, and outstretched her hand so that it was pressed against Jefferson's chest.

"I'm not quite adept enough to rip out your heart and control you: but I don't need to. I can rip out your sweet assistant's heart instead and crush it. I'm sure her brother would love to be presented with her body."

Jefferson stared straight into Regina's eyes, and her bitter gaze showed no sign of a bluff.

"Fine-but I'll get the vipers, not Elizabeth."

"Of course she wouldn't be getting them," Regina scoffed, "the stupid girl would probably get bitten- and where's the fun in that?"

Regina gave a cold laugh before setting a piece of parchment onto the desk and sweeping from the room. As Jefferson scanned through her instructions, he could just hear Regina indistinctly speaking to Elizabeth. Her soft footsteps grew louder and he looked up at her, comforted by the mellow look in her eye compared to Regina's iciness.

"What do she want you to do?"

"Steal her something. But I'm going to do it alone- I don't want you getting hurt."

Elizabeth nodded, suddenly embracing him, her cool hands reaching up to cup his jaw.

"Be careful, okay?"

"Careful is my middle name," Jefferson said.

"I thought it was trouble," Elizabeth teased, briefly kissing him.

"I'll walk back,' she continued, breaking away with a smile, her hands falling to her sides.

"What if you get lost?"

"I have this," Elizabeth whipped out a roll of parchment from her pocket to reveal a map of the enchanted forest, "I got it off Rumplestiltskin whilst you were dealing with Regina.

"Alright then- I'll see you back home in a few hours," Jefferson said, tenderly brushing a hair out of Elizabeth's face before flipping the hat onto the floor.

* * *

Consulting his instructions and pocket watch, Jefferson glanced up at the tavern sign and stepped inside. Like every tavern he'd been in, there was a definite scent of alcohol, fused with the musty scent of old tobacco, the clink of glasses and raucous noise. But there was something else in the air of the tavern, a foreboding presence that hung over the building like a thick veil. Barely a word was spoken between the people, many shrouded by cloaks from their travels, though there was a buzz of noise that seemed to drown out any individual conversations.

Jefferson took a seat at the bar, forcing himself to resist joining in the card game taking place in the far corner of the tavern. He'd barely taken a sip of the drink he'd brought, ever conscious of the time, when a reedy voice whispered:

"Are you the Hatter?"

"I have many names- though I prefer Jefferson," Jefferson said, turning to face the rather apprehensive looking man sat beside him.

The man seemed relieved by his response, taking a swig of his own drink before saying,

"The Queen said you were also called Jefferson. I am Achanda and I charm snakes."

Achanda leant forward and tentatively outstretched a hand, for him to shake. Jefferson shook and under the dim light of the tavern he realised that the snake-charmer was younger than he'd expected, fear widening the pupils of his eyes.

"You have the box?" He asked, and Jefferson nodded, lifting up a medium sized wooden box.

"Got it as soon as I arrived here, enchantments and all."

Achanda eyed the box and its steel bolts nervously,

"Good, because that may be the only thing that'll hold them. I suppose we ought to get to it then."

As they walked further into the sandy plains, Achanda informed Jefferson of how difficult the vipers were to find and just how fatal their poison was to humans. Hardly instilled with hope at their upcoming encounter, Jefferson decided it would be better to talk about something aside from the vipers. At first, Achanda had seemed cautious to talk about his own life, but he grew more relaxed once Jefferson had told of him how Regina had threatened the woman he loved as well as threatening Achanda's family.

"I only dread to think what she could possibly want with these vipers," Achanda said, holding out his arm to stop Jefferson from taking another step.

They had reached a rocky cliff, and rested on a large stone nearing the cliff edge was a formidable two-headed viper.

"That's it?" Jefferson said his voice a low, slightly horrified, whisper.

Achanda gave a grim nod before taking out a small wooden flute.

"When I play this song, the viper will become drowsy and less inclined to strike. Your safest option is to stand before the snake and grab it from the tail. That's how any who try to catch one approach it."

"Yes, and you said that pretty much everyone who goes after one of these vipers is dead." Jefferson replied, though Achanda wasn't listening.

He had begun to play the flute: slow, hypnotic notes were coming out of it. Jefferson glanced across at the viper. It's head was raised, and as the melody floated over to the viper, it's eyes grew glassy, the head swaying slightly. As Achanda took a breath, he gave a quick nod to Jefferson, who was opening the box. Though the viper looked half-asleep, Jefferson wasn't going to take any chances.

_'I'm not touching that thing- that's how everyone else died!' _He thought as he looked around the cliff edge, hoping for a way to catch the snake. A small mouse scurried past the rocks and Jefferson picked it up, dangling the mouse from its tail.

Slowly, he moved his arm along until the mouse came into view of the viper. The viper caught the mouse's scent, it's dark eyes no longer glassy but glinting with hunger. Hurriedly backing away from the approaching viper, Jefferson threw the mouse into the box. As the viper went in after it, he slammed the lid shut, tightening the latches as the viper hissed furiously. Watching the box, Achanda lowered the flute and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.

"You did it," he breathed.

"I can't take all the credit," Jefferson said with a grin, "that thing you do with the flute is pretty good. Now your family and my girlfriend are safe from Regina's wrath."

Achanda flushed with pleasure, smiling bashfully as he fiddled with the flute.

"You're welcome here any time you know, you and your girl. I'd be delighted to give you both a tour of the kingdom."

"That's very kind of you- but speaking of tours, you wouldn't happen to know where I can find a genie?"

Achanda nodded, and pointed down into the valley beneath them.

"See those caves down there? The lamp was last seen around there. I'd help you search, but I have cattle to sort before the market tomorrow, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all. Here, I'm presuming Regina won't pay you for your hard work," Jefferson pulled out a length of golden thread and ripped some off before handing it to the astounded snake charmer.

"I couldn't possibly!" Achanda said, staring at the golden thread, "don't you know how much that's worth?"

"Of course, how else do you think I make my money?" Jefferson said, pressing the thread into his hand. Achanda grinned broadly, thanked him profusely before hurrying away. Once he had vanished into the haze of sandy plains, Jefferson set off towards the caves.


	26. Chapter 26

'_It's not that far down…'_ Jefferson thought hopefully, forcing his eyes to remain watching his fingers that were desperately clinging to the mossy rock, slowly slip closer and closer to the edge.

Against his better judgement, he cast a glance down into the whirlwind of waves that cascaded along the ravine beneath him, looking quite a way away. The ravine and its gushing stream had seemed pretty harmless whilst he had been scaling the rocks in search of the cave entrance, but now Jefferson was growing to dread the waters beneath him. Gritting his teeth, Jefferson clawed at algae coated rock, though he knew it was pointless: he could feel his dangling body begins to drag him down. Despite the drop, he felt as though he had only fallen for mere seconds before hitting the water.

Icy shards of water stabbed into every part of him as Jefferson was submerged into the water. Overcome by shock, Jefferson he let out a sharp gasp, choking as the water filled his mouth, scalding his throat. His mind still seemed to be reeling from the initial shock and all Jefferson could to was instinctively thrash in the water, sinking with each second that passed by. Every molecule had become as cold as the water itself, apart from his lungs, which burnt from the sting of the water. The overpowering waves that rushed past his head and freezing temperature were weakening him far too rapidly- the surface seemed impossible to reach, a darkening blur overhead.

_'There are so many realms I haven't shown Elizabeth, I can't leave her now…I'm the dark one's best thief for gods' sakes…I can't die by drowning….'_

Jefferson repeated the words inside his head, over and over, writhing against the chasm of water he was being dragged into, his stiff legs kicking against the waves. With one last kick, he rose up to the surface, gulping in the air. The waves were still pulling him along: too fast-moving to resist. As the ravine widened at the head of the caves, the waves began to dissipate and Jefferson swam to the rocky shore. He heaved himself up onto the shore, and between heavy gasps for air, coughed up the water from his lungs. Jefferson knew he had both Elizabeth and Regina awaiting his return, though for very different reasons, and forced himself to rise, taking shaky, sodden steps into the cave.

As soon he entered the caves, a hand pressed against the wall to support himself, a low voice began to echo across the cave. The sound reverberated off every side of the cave, amplified and impossible to trace its location, bellowing out to him:

**"**Proceed with caution, take great care,

For you have entered the genie's lair,

Three wishes I may grant thee- but beware,

Whether you wish for gold, silver, love or fame,

Should there be consequences-it is not the genie you should blame,

So think twice before you make a wish,

You might not get what you…I mean…No, that doesn't rhyme….don't step any closer!"

Jefferson froze, having finally found the lamp, the genie's words becoming deafening. Having glanced around to confirm there definitely wasn't someone behind him speaking, Jefferson called back to the lamp,

"I don't want to make a wish!"

"Liar," the genie's voice replied, "everyone wants to make a wish, all you humans have desires.'

"I can't make a wish, I'm not going to use you for my own gain," Jefferson said, "look, just come out so I can see you and I'll explain."

"You have to rub the lamp."

Rolling his eyes, Jefferson reached into the water and picked up the lamp before rubbing his fingers, the algae coming away to reveal small rubies engraved into the golden lamp. As he begrudgingly rubbed the lamp for the third time, purple smoke began to issue from the lid, swirling around him. The smoke faded to reveal the genie, stood before Jefferson.

"If you are not to use me for yourself, why have you sought me? What on earth have you been promised that is greater than three wishes, that could persuade you to cross the perilous waters outside of this cave and not heed my warning?"

"I wasn't actually told about the water- my employer told me very little, all they did was give me some vague instructions: but they did threaten the woman that I love," Jefferson explained.

"Love?" The genie mused sighing despondently, "said to be the greatest magic of them all."

"I take it you've never been in love?"

The genie shook his head sorrowfully and Jefferson cast him an empathetic smile, clasping a damp arm around the Genie's shoulder.

"Well, I've seen many things, but nothing quite like the powers of love. But hey, you won't find love stuck in this cave- there are plenty of women in my kingdom, the enchanted forest- trust me; I've slept with most of them."

He winked at the genie, who gave a laugh before staring, lost in thought, towards the cave's entrance. For a minute or so, the genie remained silent.

"Do you really think I'll be able to find love in your kingdom?"

"I'm sure of it," Jefferson replied, with convincing certainty, "you don't mind going back in your lamp do you? I could do with putting you in my satchel."

"I can use my magic to get us out of here first?" The genie offered, "Getting past the ravine may prove difficult: I see you've taken a swim already."

Jefferson laughed and flipped his hat, the only thing that had remained dry, onto the ground, "It's alright- I have my own form of transportation."

* * *

After landing in the middle of the forest, Jefferson soon found his way back to the path that lead towards Lake Nostos, though he remained on the path, following it further downstream. About a mile or so away from Regina's castle, he slipped the lamp out from his satchel and whispered:

"Do I have to rub this thing again or can you come out?"

Smoke streamed out from the lamp and the genie appeared once again.

"Are we here?" he asked, gazing around at the calm stream and the tall trees that bordered the forest.

"Not exactly: I've been thinking-whatever my employer wants with you, it can't be good. As long as they have you, you'll never find love. But plenty of people, plenty of women, walk down this pathway; someone'll be bound to see the lamp and pick it up. The people of this kingdom are good- lead by the example of their King," Jefferson said, quickly adding, "and Queen."

"That's very kind of you: but what about your employer's threat? Won't they hurt the woman you love?"

"I can protect her," Jefferson assured the genie, "you said so yourself- love is the most powerful of all magic. I'm afraid you'll have to go back into the lamp, but I'm sure you'll be found soon."

The genie complied, and Jefferson carefully set the lamp down in the grassy weeds by the stream, where a few gentle waves could lap against the lamp before setting off for Rumplestiltskin's castle.

By the time he arrived at the castle, the midday sun had set into a hazy afternoon glow and through a dusty window, Jefferson could see someone had lit a fire in the potions room. He pushed open the doors and wrung the edge of his drenched coat on the doorstep before stepping inside . Unsurprisingly, Rumplestiltskin had taken his usual position of spinning straw into gold and was so absorbed in watching the spinning wheel that he barely noticed Jefferson; still soaked to the skin, go past into the potions room.

Regina was facing the flames, her hands reaching into the flames and retracting, unscathed, with a modicum amount of fire resting in the palm of her hands. Upon hearing the door opening, she turned, smiling as she took in Jefferson, the box of vipers in one hand, his hat in the other.

"I did as you asked: got the vipers, got the genie and placed the genie by the stream."

"Oh I am pleased," Regina said softly, smirking as she grew closer and saw his soaked clothing, "perhaps I ought to have warned you about reaching the genie. Come, warm by the fire, you'll dry off soon enough."

Jefferson shook his head and side stepped Regina's outstretched hand, placing the viper's box onto the potions bench.

"We're done Regina. Now you have to uphold your side of the bargain."

Regina ignored him, studying the box before waving her hand. The clasps unbuckled and the lid flew open. Jefferson let out a protest, the viper hissing furiously, and with another wave of her hand, the claps snapped shut again, sealing the viper.

"Just checking," Regina said, "and yes, a deal is a deal. I won't hurt Elizabeth. I'm too busy making Snow pay anyway."

Jefferson had already begun to leave, thinking of Elizabeth and the shop with a sauna in Arendelle, but her words made him stop.

"Regina, it doesn't take a genius to work out why you need the genie and the vipers. But it's a rather cruel way to go isn't it? Can't you just slip your husband some poison?"

"Of course not!" Regina replied, a malevolent smile playing on her lips, "Snow needs to feel the pain I felt: I want to see the look on her face when she discovers her dearest father is dead."

"Yes, but she's just a kid-"

"Just a kid?" Regina snarled, "Don't you remember what she did to me? She's responsible for Daniel's death! I don't see why you care so much: I thought you hated kids?"

"I do!" Jefferson said, "it's just seems, well…"

"Well what? If I were you, I wouldn't worry for the King or Princess Snow's futures- I'd be thinking of my own future. I mean, you have a girlfriend now, whom you claim to love- sounds like you're heading towards a rather serious relationship. But what do you want: her to be your assistant forever? You think Elizabeth will always be satisfied with travelling the realms and stealing? She'll want marriage one day- and children. What are you going to do then?"

"Yeah, well...that's pretty far in the future!" Jefferson responded, placing his hat on his head, "now if you'll excuse me, I have places to be."

Turning his back on Regina, Jefferson grabbed the door handle and slamming it behind him.


	27. Chapter 27

With the late-afternoon sun bearing down on his back as he walked, Jefferson found his clothes soon dried, though the icy chill of the ravine still lingered deep inside him. The thought of the sauna in Arendelle had never seemed so tantalising and Jefferson entered his house with a renewed sense of happiness that the freezing ravine and Regina's words had taken from him. It was only when he reached the kitchen did Jefferson realise the house was oddly silent.

"Elizabeth?" He called, returning into the hallway as he strained to hear for a reply.

There was no reply, no sound of footsteps, and trying to ignore the worry that was circulating in his mind, Jefferson pushed open a nearby door to what he vaguely recalled was the living room. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, but aside from that, the room was cold and still. Jefferson's eyes scanned across the sparsely decorated room, catching the chaise longue and the pale legs that were hanging off the end.

"Elizabeth?"

Jefferson approached the chaise longue, catching sight of Elizabeth's dark hair. He rounded the corner of the chaise longue and Elizabeth's head jerked up as he repeated her name. She blinked up at him, a hazy glaze in her eyes. Elizabeth suddenly seemed to snap out of her reverie, snapping shut her notebook with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, I get really absorbed when I'm writing…I guess you've done whatever Regina asked you to do?"

"Yes," Jefferson glanced down at the leather-bound notebook, ignoring Elizabeth's attempt to change the conversation, "what are you writing?"

"Nothing!" Elizabeth said quickly, blushing slightly as she tightly clutched the notebook to her chest, "it's a story, that's all. I've only just started; it's probably no good anyway."

"Can't you read it to me?"

"No. Not yet," seeing the look on Jefferson's face, Elizabeth smiled apologetically, her tone growing softer, "I'm sorry, I've never had anyone really take any interest in my writing before- even Victor thought it was just childish writings, a hobby, something that I could never make a future from."

"I don't mind, I can wait. Now, do you still want to go to Arendelle?" Jefferson asked, tossing his hat to the polished floor as Elizabeth nodded.

* * *

With a contented sigh, Jefferson toyed with a strand of Elizabeth's hair that rested beneath his neck. Her head was resting on his chest and she had nestled close to Jefferson as they lay on grass, shaded from the summer sun by a willow tree, its branches swaying above their heads.

"I think I like this place even more than Wonderland," Elizabeth announced, tilting her head so that she could see Jefferson's face, albeit upside down.

"You should see it in winter. Climbing these mountains is treacherous then, the snow is far too thick," Jefferson replied, looking out across the valley.

Windswept, grassy hills stretched out beneath a sunny sky for as far as the eye could see, and in the distance he could see the gleaming waters of the docks that ran out to the ocean. A little further inland was Arendelle castle itself, glimmering gold. He could envisage the kingdom being covered in a snowy blanket, the waters frozen solid, like it had been during his last trip to Arendelle the previous winter.

"Oh we've got to come back in the winter! I want to build a snowman; I haven't built one in years," Elizabeth said animatedly, shoving one of the strawberries she'd picked into Jefferson's mouth as he rolled his eyes.

Jefferson bit into the strawberry, its sweet saccharine taste filling in his mouth before he swallowed and shifted slightly so that he could reach his pocket watch. Glancing at the time, he attempted to get up and Elizabeth gave an unimpressed groan.

"Can't we stay here? My legs are killing me."

"No," Jefferson said, "the shop isn't far from here: what I have to show you will be worth it. I promise."

With that, Jefferson rose, forcing Elizabeth to move as he got up. She sat obstinately on the grass but Jefferson grabbed her hands and pulled her up regardless.

"I'm not walking any further up this mountain!" She said firmly, folding her arms.

"That's alright, because you won't have to walk," Jefferson said and before Elizabeth could reply, he swung an arm underneath her legs, his other hand wrapping around her back as he lifted her.

Elizabeth cried out in surprise, before laughing and wrapping her arms around his neck,

"You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet!" She teased, kissing him on the cheek as Jefferson proceeded to carry her up the mountain.

After walking for a few minutes, Jefferson was relieved to see they had arrived at the log cabin. Despite Elizabeth not being particularly heavy, his arms had begun to ache and he gently set Elizabeth down. Taking in the cabin, she smoothed her dress, and read the cabin's sign.

"Wandering Oaken's trading post?" She asked incredulously, turning to face Jefferson, "this is what you've wanted to take me to: to meet another one of your business partners?"

"Not exactly, though I have traded with Oaken before," Jefferson said, pointing to the smaller sign which Elizabeth then read aloud.

"And Sauna. Wait, what's a sauna?"

"You don't know what a sauna is? Oh, you are in for a treat."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jefferson took Elizabeth's hand and pushed open the door to the trading post. It was still as quaint as ever, the wooden walls lined with a variety of objects, a mix of summer and winter items combined with many things of Oaken's creation.

"Yoo-hoo Jefferson!" Oaken called, beckoning them over with a wide grin, "back to trade?"

"Not today Oaken, though we'd like to make use of your sauna?"

"You and your lady-friend?" Oaken said, looking across at Elizabeth, his smile only widening as he said brightly, "I hope you know how very lucky you are Miss."

"Oh I know," Elizabeth laughed, "he tried to make me climb the whole mountain to reach here!"

She looked up at Jefferson, having caught Oaken's infectious smile, her eyes twinkling. He pulled a face back at her and fondly wrapped an arm around her shoulders before addressing Oaken.

"How much then for the two of us?"

He opened his satchel and removed a few gold coins, but Oaken pushed away his hand when Jefferson tried to offer them, shaking his head.

"It's on the house, I insist."

"No, I've got to give you something," Jefferson said, glancing around the shop and spotting a rack of summer dresses in the corner, "Elizabeth could do with some more dresses, the only other one she has is her wedding dress."

"We ran away together from my wedding to another man, whom I didn't love, there wasn't really any time to pack," Elizabeth explained, noticing Oaken's bemused look.

"We'll pick out a few dresses after going in the sauna," Jefferson said, setting down the gold coins and scooping up the towels that Oaken had placed on the till for them.

He then headed to the sauna door and ushered Elizabeth in behind him before giving Oaken an appreciative nod and closing the door.

* * *

Blushing furiously, Elizabeth went back into the shop, unwrapping the turban from around her hair as Jefferson followed her. He fastened his cravat and wiped the last few beads of perspiration from his forehead before whispering in Elizabeth's ear:

"What happens in the sauna stays in the sauna, right?"

Elizabeth giggled, her cheeks burning as she replied, "Who I am going to tell? I wouldn't dream of telling Victor!"

"No," Jefferson murmured, kissing the top of her head before directing Elizabeth over to the dresses rack.

They both browsed through the collection, and Elizabeth pulled out a plain blue dress with white embroidery and Jefferson shook his head. He took a green silk dress from the rail and held it up for Elizabeth to see, the material shining under the cabin lanterns.

"It's nice," Elizabeth said, reaching out to feel the fabric between her fingers, "but not exactly practical."

"It'd suit you, you have to admit, and the colour goes well with your hair. Plus it'd look good on our bedroom floor."

"Jefferson!" Elizabeth cried, swatting at him with a laugh. She glanced over at Oaken, who appeared to have turned a blind eye to the pair as he sorted the stock at the till.

Eventually, they settled on three-day dresses and the green dress as an evening dress, and Elizabeth also picked out a winter coat and boots. Having already paid, Jefferson carefully folded the items over his arm, Elizabeth holding her boots, and they both thanked Oaken before going back out into the summer sunshine.

Squinting slightly in the bright glare of the sunshine, Jefferson reached up for his hat.

"Please say we can use the hat rather than walk back down the mountains," Elizabeth said, her face growing ashen as her stomach growled.

"Of course, and when we get back, I'll cook us something. I'm starving too."

"You have a maid clean your house, you don't garden, but you can cook?" Elizabeth teased.

"Yes, I make a pretty good roast thanks," Jefferson said as he bent down and twisted the hat.

He watched it enlarge, the grass swirling in the breeze the hat created.

"Mm, I love a good roast dinner," Elizabeth said, taking Jefferson's hand before they jumped.


	28. Chapter 28

Storm clouds covered the skyline over Neverland, turning the once aquamarine sea that surrounded the island, into an endless dark depth. The turbulent waves crashed into the sandy shore, rough gusts of wind making the layers of sand slide, clusters of seashells cackling as they were shattered against the rocks. Further up the beach, the looming palm trees wavered, their leaves shaking violently.

But the stormy weather was the least of Jefferson's worries as he hurtled through the jungle's labyrinth of palm trees that forced him to constantly change direction. Escaping alive was only made less possible by the lost boy death-traps that were hidden underneath the undergrowth. A little further ahead, he could see Elizabeth, her hair streaming out behind her as she ducked, twisted and turned through the jungle. The lost boys had stopped trying to hide, and he could hear their pounding footsteps growing ever closer: Jefferson knew he and Elizabeth were at a disadvantage compared to Pan's minions, who could navigate the island far better than they could. Glancing back, he could see Felix, leading the group, rounding the corner behind them. Jefferson turned his head, hoping to see a glimpse of the beach and almost landed on Elizabeth.

"Why the hell have you stopped?"

"I'm stuck!" Elizabeth replied, desperately tugging at the lock of hair that had wound around a thick branch.

She was too distracted to notice the thick vines that had begun to wind around her feet, and Jefferson quickly cast the counter spell before pulling out his dagger and sliced the tip of Elizabeth's hair. Taking her hand, he pushed her forward as they began to run again. There was no chance to talk; his only focus was on getting out of jungle alive. Beside him, Elizabeth let out short, sharp breaths and Jefferson could feel her pulling against him as she slowed.

Elizabeth had only been his assistant for a fortnight, and since the episode at the market, the majority of their heists had been completely successful- she wasn't prepared for the physical strain of Neverland and its inhabitant's security measures.

"C'mon, we're almost there, I promise," Jefferson urged, giving Elizabeth's hand a reassuring squeeze.

She nodded and her pace began to increase again. Suddenly, Jefferson could feel grains of sand mixed into the undergrowth beneath his feet. Through the trees was the outline of the rocky sea and Jefferson felt himself smiling.

_'We've made it.'_

His celebratory thoughts were cut short as the pair was forced to come to a halt by the lost boys that had sprung out from the foliage. Circling around, Jefferson realised they were surrounded, the lost boys all pointing their spears and wooden swords threateningly towards them. Jefferson turned to face the beach again and found he was staring straight at one of hooded lost boys.

Stepping forward, the figure removed their hood to reveal themselves as Pan himself, a cold grin gracing his boyish features.

"Jefferson, I thought you'd have enough sense not to come back here," Pan said. As he spoke, the circle of lost boys drew one step closer, suddenly seizing them both.

Jefferson writhed against the ropes that the lost boys hastily tied around his hands, though there were too many to resist as they grabbed hold of him. Only mere metres away, the remaining lost boys had bound Elizabeth.

Pan spun on his heel, turning his attention to Elizabeth, though Jefferson could see his leering smile as his eyes slowly trailed down her, "You know, it's been a while since we've had any females on the island. What's your name?"

Elizabeth didn't answer; her face pale with fear as she shrank away from Pan.

"Leave her alone!" Jefferson yelled, struggling against the lost boy's grip.

Pan looked back at Jefferson, his sinister grin silencing Jefferson, who began to slide his fingers beneath the rope for his dagger as the lost boys watched their leader. Around them, the storm seemed to have silenced. Pan turned back to Elizabeth as though Jefferson had never spoken.

"I said, what's your name?"

He pressed his own dagger to Elizabeth's neck and she opened her mouth, the terror in her eyes replaced with disgust as she spat: "Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth," Pan crooned, keeping the dagger taut against her skin, "Feisty, I see, though I ought to expect that of the girlfriend of a well renowned portal jumper and thief."

Pan turned back to Jefferson, looking from him to Elizabeth, his grin intensifying.

"Give me back what you've stolen."

"I haven't stolen anything," Jefferson lied, "I just wanted to show Elizabeth Neverland."

"Liar," hissed Pan, pressing the dagger in Elizabeth's neck so tightly that beads of blood began to trickle onto the end.

Elizabeth remained silent, her pain shown only in the tears that welled up in her eyes. Jefferson glanced across at her, willing her not to give the item up to Pan.

"Just give it to me," Pan said, still speaking to Jefferson, "or Elizabeth dies."

For a split second, time seemed to stand still in the clearing: Pan faced Jefferson, not realising it was Elizabeth who clutched what they'd stolen, the lost boys were poised, keeping Jefferson and Elizabeth restrained. There wasn't a sound- apart from the slightest whisper of movement that sailed through the trees.

The arrow hit the tree directly behind Elizabeth, landing just above her head. She let out a scream, though the lost boys seemed far more startled, immediately releasing the pair and grabbing their weapons. More arrows shot out of the jungle, though the lost boys could see no sign of their attacker, helplessly ducking and dodging the arrows whilst thrusting their weapons at thin air. In the confusion, Jefferson ran through the crossfire to Elizabeth, protectively wrapping his arms around her to shield her.

Although the arrows didn't seem to be aimed at them, he couldn't see a way of sneaking to the beach without one of them getting hit. They remained pressed against the tree and Jefferson searched through the suddenly smaller amount of lost boys. There were still a few lost boys trying to fight their attacker, though few had fallen, and Jefferson saw a few had escaped into the depths of the jungle: including a slightly taller figure who he suspected was Pan. Eventually, all the remaining lost boys had been hit and were fast asleep at their feet. Jefferson made to move when another figure emerged from the trees: someone he was relieved to see.

"You've got to be more careful!" Baelfire scolded, carefully stepping over the slumbering lost boys, "without me you'd both be dead!"

"I know, I know, you think I wanted to bring Elizabeth here? Look, we can talk later- can we please get out of here before Pan's cronies wake up?"

Baelfire nodded and he led them out onto the beach, Jefferson keeping an arm wrapped around Elizabeth's back. They followed Baelfire along the beach to a set of caves hidden beneath the cliffs. Baelfire ushered them into the nearest cave, kicking a stray twig towards the remains of a fire and smoothing out the heap of blankets for them to sit on.

"Nice touch by the way, dipping the arrow heads in poppy seeds," Jefferson said, attempting a laugh, though Baelfire remained unimpressed.

"Seriously, why are you here? You knew Pan would've had his eye on you the second you stepped foot on this island. Last time you got lucky because you swam onto the beach, but portal jumping directly into the jungle..."

"We just wanted to steal the item as fast as possible; it was the last thing to steal on our list for the dark one before getting the rest of the day off," Jefferson explained, "you have still got it, haven't you Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth gave a weak nod, sliding a small bottle filled with a dark inky substance out from her dress pocket, her eyes closed as she rested the back of her head against the cave wall. The cut on her neck was still bleeding, and feeling guilty for not noticing sooner, Jefferson raised his hand to heal it.

"No magic!" Baelfire snapped, grabbing Jefferson's hand, "Pan'll find you in seconds!"

Sighing, Baelfire tore off the edge of the blanket he was sat on and went to the entrance of the cave. A few droplets of water trickled onto the cloth and he returned into the cave, examining the cut before pressing the cloth to Elizabeth's neck.

"It doesn't look poisoned, just keep the cloth against your neck, you'll be fine in a minute or two."

"Thank-you," Elizabeth murmured, and Baelfire gave a wry smile.

"Here, let me do it," Jefferson said and his own fingers replaced Balefire's. His free hand tenderly brushed the jagged lock of hair he'd cut out of Elizabeth's face.

"So you must be Elizabeth," Baelfire said, "I didn't quite catch your name whilst I was preparing the arrows, but Jefferson's told me all about you."

"Has he?" Elizabeth asked; her wan cheek colouring.

"Yeah: he told me he loved you and seeing you together, that's quite clear. There aren't many people that Jefferson would use magic for, if it wasn't for personal gain, isn't that right Jefferson?"

"Hm?" Jefferson murmured, not fully paying attention. Baelfire gave a loud cough and Jefferson looked up from studying the bottle that they'd stolen.

"This is squid ink," he said slowly, his forehead creased, "I could have quite easily got this off the black market, we had no need to come here at all…I risked all our lives for nothing!"

"That's not true, I got to meet your girlfriend," Baelfire said, his smile fading at the frustrated look on Jefferson's face.

Elizabeth pulled out a piece of parchment and began to unroll it, "If Rumplestiltskin-"

"Call him the dark one," Baelfire interrupted, the firmness in his voice causing Elizabeth to hesitate,

"If Rumple-the dark one knew you could get it off the black market, why did he specifically tell us to go here?"

Both Baelfire and Jefferson looked down at the parchment, which listed all the items Rumplestiltskin had requested to be stolen. At the very bottom read: 'Squid ink-Neverland'

Baelfire glanced over at Jefferson, who averted his gaze to looking at Elizabeth, who continued,

"I mean, if he knew how dangerous it was…why would he send us here, surely he wouldn't want Pan to kill us?"

"Not us," Jefferson said softly, "you."

"The dark one isn't exactly the most compassionate of people: if he knows of your relationship, he's definitely going to want to destroy anything that could lead his prized portal jumper astray," Baelfire explained grimly.

"We've just got to tread carefully, okay?" Peeling the cloth from Elizabeth's neck, Jefferson placed a kiss on Elizabeth's lips, much to Balefire's disgust.

"Go and kiss in some other realm," he cried, "somewhere where you're safe!"

"Baelfire's right- we should leave Neverland before we endanger him or ourselves," Elizabeth agreed, tentatively feeling the clotted cut on her neck before rising.

Jefferson followed suit, ruffling Baelfire's hair with a teasing smile before clicking his fingers. A large hamper appeared, lined with a fresh blanket that contained a collection of fruit, vegetables, chicken breast, darts and kindling to thank Baelfire.

"Don't do that," Baelfire huffed, attempting to mask his gratitude, "papa…the dark one always did that. Made things appear."

Elizabeth gave Jefferson a questioning look, though she didn't say anything about Baelfire's obvious slip, instead announcing,

"We better be off, but I hope we can see you soon, perhaps somewhere a little safer than here?"

"Sure," Baelfire replied doubtfully, already eyeing the chicken breast that was perched on a pile of grapes.

"Let's leave him to it," she whispered to Jefferson, smiling up at him as she linked her hand with his.

They left the cave and went back out onto the beach, which no longer resembled the scene of a shipwreck but an idyllic paradise. Gentle waves lapped onto the golden sand and for a moment Elizabeth gazed out into the sea rather dreamily, and Jefferson quickly spun the hat before she could persuade him to risk taking a dip in the sea.

"You know," he called to her over the gush of the spinning hat, "being my assistant is pretty dangerous- I warned you I had many enemies. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Waiting for her answer, Jefferson recalled Regina's words, that someday Elizabeth would want a life involving a family, rather than adventures in his hat.

Seeing his concerned look, Elizabeth gave a small laugh, smiling across at him as she prepared to jump, "Of course I want to keep portal-jumping. Always, I promise."

* * *

When Elizabeth and Jefferson arrived back in the enchanted forest, the warm weather of Neverland seemed to have followed them. The forest seemed to be bathed in sunshine, though nothing could brighten the thoughts that Jefferson was brooding as they walked to Rumplestiltskin's castle.

The knowledge that Rumplestiltslin had tried to kill Elizabeth troubled him, as well as his employer's sly subtlety was troubling him. Jefferson had always been conscious that Rumplestiltskin could hardly be trusted, yet after years of working for him, Jefferson had almost felt as though he knew Rumplestiltskin: or at least better than most who made deals with him. For some reason, having this belief being doubted unsettled Jefferson.

Reaching the castle grounds, Jefferson swore to himself to keep an particularly vigilant eye on Elizabeth whilst they were portal jumping, to prevent her being endangered again, and on their employer too.

Elizabeth looked at him when they reached the door and he could see the hesitation in her eyes. She was willing him to go through first: the revelation of Rumplestiltskin's intentions had unsettled her too. With considerably less vigour than usual, Jefferson pushed open the door and entered into the hallway.

"Ah, I see the portal jumper has returned," Rumplestiltskin announced, rising from his seat at the spinning wheel with a flourish.

Elizabeth followed behind Jefferson, and Rumplestiltskin did not notice her until she stepped out from behind him.

"And his assistant," the imp added.

'I swear he looked disappointed,' Jefferson thought, dispelling the silence that had fallen over them by producing the requested items from his satchel.

He set them down on the table, and Rumplestiltskin studied each one, finally arriving on the squid ink.

"Got that from Neverland," Jefferson said, giving his employer a rather pointed look.

"Did you now?" The imp asked, sounding rather surprised by the news, though Jefferson was wary to let down his guard,

"You risked your life, not to mention your assistant's, to get me fresh squid ink from Neverland rather than stale ink from the black market, which would have kept you both perfectly safe. I am impressed."

"You make it sound like a test," Jefferson said.

Rumplestiltskin gave a small grin, a manic twinkle in his eyes,

"Oh it was dearie: and you passed."

"He didn't actually," Elizabeth said, "I told him after we'd stolen an item, which realm we'd need to go to next, and I don't think Jefferson had fully realised what we'd stolen, otherwise we would have got it from the black market, and not been chased by hooded lunatics."

Rumplestiltskin tutted loudly and sighed, "Pan and his lost boys."

Elizabeth cleared her throat and continued,

"So, you weren't trying to kill me?"

"Kill you?" Rumplestiltskin gave a high-pitched giggle, "why on earth would I want to do that? You two are quite the team, you've stolen me more things in a fortnight than Jefferson could get in a month, and more difficult things too. Nobody else in any realm has thieves that compare to you. So no, I don't intend on killing you- not when you have...so much ahead of you."

Elizabeth gave a grateful nod and thanked Rumplestiltskin for his compliments, though Jefferson could see her brows had furrowed as she tried to decipher his cryptic, and prophetic, ending.

Rumplestiltskin pulled off a long length of golden thread and passed it Jefferson,

"For surviving Neverland, and I'd recommend you two make the most of this glorious weather during your afternoon off."

"You haven't given us the whole afternoon off in over a week," Jefferson said suspiciously as he stuffed the last of the thread into his satchel.

"Well there is nothing more you two can do for me at present, and your success in obtaining the squid ink has put me in a rather generous mood," Rumplestiltskin replied, his expression darkening as a loud bang sounded from the potions room, "although Regina may test that."

For a moment Jefferson lingered, and Rumplestiltskin waved his hand,

"Go on. At the very least you both need to rest. Neverland can be very tiring, especially if Pan is after you."

Jefferson gave a curt nod, Elizabeth gently tugging his hand, and he followed her out of the castle and into the blinding sunlight.

"I still don't trust him," Jefferson said, "that thing, about your future..." He shook his head, unable to put into words his unease.

"I know, but we can worry about that later. We've got the whole afternoon to ourselves, and after Neverland, I fancy some quiet," Elizabeth said.

"Can I race you home?" Jefferson asked, grinning as Elizabeth gave a begrudging nod, "whoever loses has to make rice pudding for after dinner and wash up."

"Well I can't lose then: my rice pudding was an absolute disaster, it almost obliterated the kitchen."

"You'll just have to take it out sooner," Jefferson called, already onto the path outside the castle.

Elizabeth darted after him, eager to catch up with Jefferson. She tore down through the woodland after him, following him along an obscure path that led out nearby their house. Jefferson had managed to maintain a lead, though just as he reached the gate, Elizabeth's arms wound around his sides from behind.

"Don't...you...dare," she cried, straining to hold him back, her fingers prising his away from reaching the gate and claiming victory.

Jefferson whirled around, held in Elizabeth's arms. He was close enough to her to see the flecks of gold among the hazel in her eyes. Unable to resist smiling one of the Cheshire cat's infamous smiles, he kissed her. As Elizabeth leant in, something seemed to click inside of him: every thought, every doubt vanished. Breaking away, Elizabeth coyly smiled back before going onto her tiptoes, so that they were almost eye to eye, and whispered,

"I win."

Looking over his shoulder, Jefferson saw that Elizabeth has pushed him against the gate, though her hands prevented him from touching the gate.

"But I can wash up- I wasn't too bad at that," Elizabeth added, taking his hands and pulling him through the gate.

"Sure: just try not to flood the sink," teased Jefferson, recalling Elizabeth's futile attempts at turn off the kitchen taps.

"I won't, hopefully. I know you probably want to get up to more exciting things, but can I get started on the back garden? Right now it's all just overgrown bushes and weeds."

"Of course. I suppose you'll work up an appetite, do you want me cook something up to go with the rice pudding?"

"I still haven't got over the chicken pie from the other night!" Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head with a sigh, "we're like a proper family: you cooking, me gardening! Speaking of which..."

Elizabeth let go of his hands before disappearing behind a large honeysuckle bush, leaving Jefferson staring after her. Her mention of a family resonated with Regina's warning. But Elizabeth's happiness, combined with a fatal mix of lazy, honeysuckle-scented summer air, made it impossible for Jefferson to find the strength of mind to cast doubt on their portal-jumping future.

_'Elizabeth's right- we can worry about the future some other time.'_


	29. Chapter 29

"All this is my garden?" Jefferson stepped outside and looked down at his feet; his shoes were covered in swathes of thick grass that he'd forgotten were there, before gazing around the rest of his newly discovered land.

Yards of grass sloped down to a peeling fence, stretching as far as a broad oak tree. Most of the blackberry bushes that had swarmed the garden had been stripped back to reveal many hidden flowerbeds, the upturned soil waiting to be planted once more.

"I suppose so, presumably this old fence marks the boundary," Elizabeth said, rising from her crouched position at one of flowerbeds.

Stretching her taut back with a slight groan, Elizabeth picked up the scissors she'd been trimming with and turned to Jefferson,

"What time's tea, chef? All this gardening has left me very hungry."

"I was just coming to tell you when I realised that I actually own a garden," Jefferson said, "a very large garden in fact, that'd be perfect for eating in."

With a click of his fingers, the table and dinner materialised before them on the lawn, complete with their dining chairs.

"I thought we'd agreed Jefferson: you're not supposed to use magic for trivial, everyday things!" Elizabeth scolded.

"Alright, alright," Jefferson said, negligently raising his hands as if to surrender, "I just didn't want you to hurt yourself helping me shift the table out here: so it's not a trivial use of magic, it's useful."

"Fine," Elizabeth snapped venomously before sullenly sitting down at the table with a disapproving sigh.

"Look, using a little bit of magic really isn't gonna hurt anybody," Jefferson said as he sat down at on the adjacent chair.

"But all magic has a price! One day you'll have to pay it- the more magic you use, the greater that price will be."

"Yes I'm aware of the consequences of using magic. You don't need to worry about the price, it's all sorted."

Elizabeth gave him a disbelieving look, irritation flashing in her eyes as she began to eat without a word to him. Dissatisfaction gnawed at Jefferson as he too began to eat, though he sensed it was wiser not to further pursue the conversation and antagonise Elizabeth. Around them, birds chirped a warbling tune from the trees, and the mild glow of sunshine cast long shadows across the lawn. The peaceful summer air was tainted by the cold glances Elizabeth shot at him and his own frustration at how disastrously their afternoon off had become. Setting his cutlery down with a scrape that cut through the silence, Jefferson rose and muttered fetching the rice pudding before escaping back to the house.

After delaying having to return to the frosty atmosphere of the garden for long enough, Jefferson resolutely grabbed the two ramekins of rice pudding and went back out into the garden. As he placed the bowls on the table, Jefferson cautiously eyed Elizabeth, who was drinking tea and simultaneously avoiding his gaze. There was a thud as the glass ramekins hit the wood and Jefferson stiffly sat down. The opportunity for either to speak briefly arose and diminished into silence again. Swallowing a mouthful of the hot rice pudding, Jefferson drummed his fingers against the table. Elizabeth looked up sharply and Jefferson hastily stopped, reaching for his cup to quell the burning in his throat. Stealing a glance over at her, Elizabeth was toying with her spoon, pushing her half-eaten rice pudding around. Her eyes flickered across to his and Elizabeth held Jefferson's gaze before clearing her throat.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you- it's been a long day," She said meekly, tentatively reaching out to touch his hand, "I'm just tired."

"Neverland is pretty exhausting," Jefferson admitted as Elizabeth's fingers enclosed around his.

Her cool skin sent a chill through him that dissolved any lingering feelings of testiness. Jefferson cast Elizabeth an understanding smile to tell her that he accepted her apology, even if he felt too proud to say it aloud. After scraping the remains of her rice pudding from the ramekin, Elizabeth leant back in her seat, hers arms draped across the tablecloth so that her fingertips brushed his. Her head had tilted back, gazing up through the leaves of the oak tree to the orange sky above them, a tangerine swirl of faded sunshine and red hints of the setting sun. Jefferson could just see the shudder of her jaw as Elizabeth stifled a yawn, fatigue hitting him.

"We may as well call it an early night Elizabeth: who knows where Rumplestiltskin will send us tomorrow."

Elizabeth tore her eyes away from the sky and looked across at him, pouting slightly.

"It's too beautiful out here to sleep-"Elizabeth protested, breaking off as she gave another yawn.

"Come one, you look as shattered as I feel," Jefferson said, prising his fingers from around hers and getting up.

"Just one dance," Elizabeth started after him and caught his elbow to stop him reaching the house, "please?"

Jefferson turned and let one hand trail down to Elizabeth's waist, the other settling on her shoulder. Her hands mirrored his, and like clockwork figurines, they began to dance on the mossy grass, their footsteps synchronised to music made from the rhythm of the rustling wind between the leaves, the chirps of crickets in the undergrowth in harmony with the melodic birdsong that drifted from the woods. His jarred heartbeat thudded just out of time with their movements, though Jefferson felt as though time had slowed: each second measured by the gentle breaths he inhaled. Elizabeth's arms had wound around his neck, their footsteps slowed so that they were almost stationary, swaying in the breeze.

"I wish things could stay like this forever," Elizabeth murmured, her voice reduced to a soft whisper against his neck.

"Why would anything change?" He asked, cupping his hands around her cheeks and raising her forlorn face upwards so that her eyes, brimming with tears, were looking into his.

"Nothing lasts forever: things change, they always do."

"I don't mind a little change," Jefferson assured her and Elizabeth nodded in agreement, though he could see the half-heartedness behind her smile.

She leant in closer and kissed him hard, although Jefferson knew she was blinking back tears. His fingers brushed the nape of her neck as he kissed her back, breathing in the sweet scent of musk that radiated from her. Elizabeth only increased the pressure from her lips, every unspoken emotion pouring into the kiss, desperately trying to hide the tear that Jefferson could feel sliding down his cheek. As the saltwater taste reached the corner of his lips, Elizabeth drew away and took a step back, going back into the dance as though they hadn't stopped, with her head resting against his shoulder.

Strands of hair from the crown of her head skimmed his jaw and her shoulders began to shudder against his chest. Unsure of what to respond with, Jefferson placed a hand on the back of her head, his fingers stroking her hair whilst his other hand wrapped around her back, holding Elizabeth to him. She sobbed until she could no longer fight the exhaustion, her head lolling on his shoulder as her eyelids closed, her body growing heavier against his. Brushing away the last few tears that she'd shed, Jefferson lifted and carried the sleeping girl up to their bedroom. He smoothed the rumpled duvet and laid Elizabeth on her side of the bed.

In her slumber, Elizabeth was rather virtuous in appearance, her chest rising and falling peacefully, her pale face framed by wisps of hair, the creases from her forehead had vanished, leaving her expressionless: free from any sadness. Jefferson traced a finger down her cheekbone, wiping away the faint stain from her final few tears and gently covered Elizabeth, whose bare arms were prickled with goose bumps, with a blanket. Too tired to bother changing, he clambered into the bed and lay beside her, staring up at the wooden rafters as he tried to make sense of it all, though Jefferson's bewildered thoughts were clouded by drowsiness, a throbbing ache forming behind his eyes. Reaching over the duvet, Jefferson found Elizabeth's hand and rested his own on top, their fingers entwined as he resisted fighting the fatigue and fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for not updating as frequently as promised, I've been struggling to write this 'section' of the story (this chapter was initially going to be much longer, but I'm splitting the chapter into two chapters.) I'm on holiday all of next week, however I'm going to try and update via the mobile site, but I can't promise an update next week. If there isn't one, I will upload as soon as I get back: a pretty key point of this story is in the next chapter... ^o^**


	30. Chapter 30

During the next few weeks, Jefferson tried to ask Elizabeth about that evening, yet every time he had tried to broach the subject, Elizabeth acted as if she hadn't heard him: though that soon became the least of Jefferson's concerns. The only changes that had taken place amongst their schedule of travelling the realms and stealing were down to Elizabeth herself, much to Jefferson's incomprehension.

Her mood shifts were startlingly subtle: one moment Elizabeth would be laughing at a joke he'd made, the next, she'd be reprimanding him from something as simple as forgetting to the washing up, then hours later she'd apologise and blame it on being tired.

But to Jefferson, tired was an understatement. Elizabeth seemed to be almost permanently exhausted, though she did her best to hide it from him. Even after a long day's work, Elizabeth insisted that they traversed the realms during their time off.

Despite his concerns, Elizabeth insisted that she was fine, fixing a smile on her face that didn't quite hide the dark circles around her eyes. But her veneer was fading by the day, and late at night, whilst Elizabeth slept soundly, Jefferson lay awake, gazing up into the darkness. More than anything, he wished that Elizabeth would tell him the truth. He didn't know how much longer he could pretend to swallow her lies, to pretend to ignore how ill she appeared.

* * *

Having returned from Narnia after another day's theft, Jefferson had anticipated that they could take a well-deserved afternoon off, though when they returned to Rumplestiltskin's castle, the imp sprung a surprise on them: a visit to the trolls for what Rumplestiltskin vaguely informed them was 'something important.'

"Something important: it could be anything," Jefferson muttered, scowling as they climbed the rocky pathway to the trolls' bridge.

He wasn't impressed with the additional request from the imp, or that Elizabeth had averred on coming with him, despite seeming worse than ever, far too pale and strained to be trekking through the forest to the troll bridge.

"Remember that time he got us to pluck a feather off that golden goose?" Elizabeth replied from behind him, "Goodness knows what he wanted with that."

"I think it's for people to use when they sign deals," Jefferson said.

Having reached the bridge, Jefferson looked back over his shoulder at Elizabeth. She seemed to waver in the wind that breathed the promise of autumn, her arms crossed to keep out the cool chill that rippled across the bridge.

"Elizabeth, you really shouldn't be here. Whatever it is Rumplestiltskin wants, I can get it myself. You can go home through the hat, have something warm to drink-"

"No. I'm staying. I'm fine, really," Elizabeth said unconvincingly, "but let's just hurry up and deal with these trolls- this place smells foul."

As if to prove her point, the stench of decaying fish and rotten wood wafted towards them. Elizabeth recoiled slightly and swallowed hard to stop herself from gagging. She looked as though she was struggling to keep what little she ate for breakfast down. Jefferson nodded in agreement and hurriedly pulled out a few glistening coins from his satchel before throwing them down onto the bridge.

Within moments a grisly hand emerged from beneath the bridge, causing the ground beneath their feet to vibrate. Elizabeth tightly clutched the ropes that formed one side of the bridge, watching as the troll hauled itself up onto the bridge. Another wave of rotten fish gusted to them but Jefferson to a step forward and called out to the unsightly troll:

"I wish to trade."

"You want to trade? Most humans don't come here to trade, they seek passage…" the troll grunted, grinning to reveal a mouth filled with yellow, broken teeth the size of small boulders, crushed human bones lodged between them.

Elizabeth murmured something indistinguishable, but Jefferson continued impassively, turning his repulsed grimace into a similar grin.

"Perhaps I'm not exactly human- more, the dark one? " He bowed with a flourish, imitating Rumplestiltskin.

"Dark one?" The troll slowly repeated, staring hard at him, its colossal eyebrows knitted together as though it was thinking hard, "but…I've heard the dark one is old and scaled: like a crocodile."

"I have many personas," Jefferson said, impatiently rocking on his heels, "now, to business. I believe you owe me something?"

"A trade requires something from both parties. Give me the girl- then we'll talk."

"She's not for trading: she's to be my maid. However, this is what I will give you," Jefferson mentally cast an enchantment and upturned his satchel.

Masses of gold coins spilled out, raining down onto the bridge. Creaks echoed from beneath them, as though the cliffs were splitting, and from the shroud of mist more trolls began to appear.

"Give it to me," Jefferson snapped at the troll, who had been staring down at the mound of coins, "or do I have to destroy this bridge?"

Begrudgingly, the troll produced a leather pouch and tossed it across to Jefferson, who caught it. He was surprised by how light the pouch was, as though there was nothing in it at all.

"It's all there," the troll said hurriedly, noticing Jefferson suspiciously weighing the bag in his hand, before scooping up a colossal handful of gold, the outlines of its fellow trolls growing more visible.

"Excellent doing business with you, dearie," Jefferson paused as the rumble of trolls thundered beneath them.

The ground shook so violently that he lost his footing and stumbled, the hat falling from his head and landing on the wood. It began to enlarge and Jefferson cursed, the rippling gush of magic startling the troll.

"The dark one doesn't jump portals…" the troll murmured, its mouth gaping as it realised that it'd been deceived.

"Yes. You see, I may have lied about my name," Jefferson admitted, turning to find Elizabeth had vanished in the vapour of smoke and magic.

The troll gave an enraged roar, and for a moment Jefferson thought he briefly heard a retching sound, but before he could consider it any further, the troll swiped an arm the size of a castle tower at him. Jefferson ducked his heart rate quickening as he desperately searched through the haze for Elizabeth, whilst the hat grew larger and the troll angrier with each second.

Suddenly, something grabbed his arm, fingernails digging into him. Elizabeth grasped onto him, breathing shallow, rapid breaths. Jefferson lifted her am onto his shoulder, her limp body resting against him, and they jumped.

With a rough jolt, the whirl of magic faded away, tearing the pair apart. Jefferson was thrown onto the forest floor. His head spun as he gazed around the woods, trying to locate where they had landed. There was a rumble from behind them and Jefferson bolted upright, recalling what he'd stolen from the trolls. He grabbed the pouch from a pile of leaves, freezing as he heard the retching sound again.

Jefferson turned to see Elizabeth, bent double as she was sick, her hands gripping a tree trunk to support her. She straightened up before slumping against the tree, not seeing Jefferson. He moved over to her, placing both hands comfortingly around her shoulders. Elizabeth looked up, her glassy eyes meeting his. Before she could protest, Jefferson made a glass of water appear and handed it to her. The glass trembled in her hands and Elizabeth slowly brought the water to her dry lips.

"Are you alright?" Jefferson asked, his eyebrows raised in concern at her as he studied her pallid face.

Elizabeth remained silent, tears trickling down her face. Her quavering lips opened, and Jefferson hoped that Elizabeth would finally confess as to what was wrong with her.

"I…I'm fine," Elizabeth rasped, breathing heavily, "It was just the smell of the trolls, that's all."

"No, it's not all. You're ill; you can't deny it any longer. You've gone off half my meals; you're always tired, now you've been sick, twice I suspect. As soon as we've given this pouch to Rumplestiltskin, we're going straight to your brother."

Elizabeth choked out a mouthful of water, staring at him in horror, "No. I'm not ill; I don't need to see a doctor: especially not Victor."

"Yes, you are seeing a doctor, and it ought to be your brother, " Jefferson said firmly, his tone softening as he took hold of her hands, his fingertips covering her white knuckles, "I'm worried about you Elizabeth, and I'm sure Victor is too. You haven't seen him in over six weeks, though it may be longer for him."

"I do miss him," Elizabeth conceded. She gulped down more of the water, her head still bowed, gazing miserably at the floor.

"You know, I miss your brother and his disapproving glares too," Jefferson joked, and Elizabeth laughed weakly, "Come on, let's bring whatever is in this pouch back to Rumplestiltskin, before those trolls catch up with us. I don't think we're too far from the castle though."

Elizabeth nodded and hauled herself up, Jefferson's arm wrapped across her back. Inhaling deeply, she took a few shaking steps before relapsing, her knees buckling. Jefferson caught hold of her and kept his arm around her as they cut through the woods to the castle. There was a faint roar from direction of the troll bridge, and Jefferson quickened his pace. Elizabeth's breathing had steadied and she was no longer as shaky, matching his pace as they hurried through the woods. Eventually, Rumplestiltskin's castle came into view, and they hurried up the steps. Carefully retracting his arm from around Elizabeth, Jefferson pushed open the doors to the hall.

To his surprise, the dining table that had been there earlier had been replaced with a huge, gilded mirror, which Regina stood before, her hand gesturing to her oversized nose, Rumplestiltskin smirking by her side.

"I thought you said I could transform my whole face?"

"You need to focus," Rumplestiltskin tutted, "else it won't work. Try again, and reverse your nose."

Regina nodded grimly and turned her attention back to her reflection. Rumplestiltskin watched her for a moment, and then suddenly whirled around face to Jefferson and Elizabeth before striding over to them.

"You've got what I wanted from the trolls, I trust?"

"Indeed," Jefferson pulled out the pouch and handed it over to the imp, who undid the drawstring and peeked inside.

A satisfied grin crept across the imp's face, his eyes gleaming, "excellent, excellent. One moment, I shall go and put this in a safe place. Then you will be free to spend your afternoon as you wish."

Rumplestiltskin vanished through the doors to the potions room, and Regina turned from the mirror, her nose having returned to normal.

"You don't look well dear," she commented, and Jefferson frowned in confusion, realising that Regina was gazing at Elizabeth.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth said coolly, and Jefferson saw the look that quickly passed from one woman to the other, before Elizabeth sarcastically added, "but thank you for asking, your majesty."

Regina smiled cruelly, a malicious glint in her eyes, "you do look so pale- almost as though you'd just been sick?"

Jefferson glanced questioningly across at Elizabeth, who began to stutter a reply when the tapping of approaching footsteps sounded on the dusty floor. Rumplestiltskin re-entered the hall and called over to Regina, "I see you've sorted your nose. Now this time try to change your whole face."

Regina scowled, disappointed at not being able to taunt Elizabeth further and went back to studying her reflection. Shaking his head, Rumplestiltskin strode over to his spinning wheel and plucked a  
spool of golden thread from the basket.

"Your earnings for the day," he said and handed the golden thread to Jefferson, "now, how did you manage to trade with the trolls?"

"I told them I was the dark one. Used an enchantment to create a small mountain of fake gold and gave that to them. I knew they wouldn't be able to resist, although when they realised I was portal jumper, they weren't too happy," Jefferson explained, missing out the events in the woods.

Rumplestiltskin gave a giggle and laughed darkly, "Oh, I wouldn't like to be a human straying near that bridge anytime soon."

Sensing the conversational tone to Rumplestiltskin's voice, Jefferson quickly cleared his throat, "Well, if we've done our business for the day, I suppose Elizabeth and I may leave?"

"Yes, yes, of course: off to visit dear doctor Frankenstein, are you not?" Rumplestiltskin asked and a pouch, bulging with gold, materialised on the table, which he then gave to Jefferson, "pass on these wages for me, and find out how his monster is going."

Ignoring Elizabeth's look of confusion, Jefferson pocketed the gold and tipped his hat to the imp, before taking her arm. She remained silent until they were back outside, letting go of his arm and demanding, "how did Rumplestiltskin know we're going to visit my brother?"

"He can see into the future," Jefferson said, "although as far as I'm aware, Regina can't see into the past. How did she know that you'd been sick?"

"I don't know!" Elizabeth said, a little too quickly, not quite meeting his eye, before hurriedly adding, "Well, aren't we going to go the land without colour then?"

"Yes," Jefferson snapped, setting the hat down and twisting it forcefully. _'Why does she have to lie?'_

Once they had jumped and arrived in the hall of doors, Elizabeth blanched and Jefferson feared that she'd be sick again, his irritation towards her fading as she grasped his hand, exhaustion lining the creases on her forehead. Although Jefferson wondered if he should let Elizabeth rest and take her to the land without colour another day, he knew he had kept her from her brother for long enough, particularly in the state she was in.

He followed Elizabeth through the steel door, moving his hand to her back to support her: Elizabeth reminded him of the fragile china dolls he'd once seen in a far-off realm. One misjudged step, and Jefferson was almost convinced that Elizabeth would shatter. Pushing the door shut behind them, Jefferson looked out at the black and white land before them. Having spent six weeks in realms with colour, at first it was difficult for his eyes to adjust to the stark contrast of black and white.

"Jefferson!"

The sound of his name coincided precisely with his realisation of what would happen to Elizabeth and when Jefferson turned, he saw his suspicions were confirmed. The sky blue of Elizabeth's dress had darkened into black, along with her eyes and hair, whilst the little colour she regained in her cheeks vanished. Elizabeth had returned to being as colourless as when they'd first met.

"Everything seems different now," Elizabeth mused as she examined herself, "it's like I'm seeing this place through brand new eyes: I never even realised just how colourless life was here!"

"It's not completely black and white here- the red roses from Wonderland may still be growing."

"We can have a look once we get to the castle," Elizabeth said, her voice sounding brighter than it had done in weeks, despite being back to dull black and white, " I don't recognise this part of the woods, is the castle near here?"

"It's not too far from here, down this way," taking Elizabeth's hand, Jefferson carefully guided her through the woods.

He could still recall the spot where he'd been attacked by the Count and his men, and Jefferson gave an involuntary shudder as they skirted past the trees that he'd been pinned against. Jefferson kept Elizabeth close to him as they made their way through the woods, hoping that they wouldn't be ambushed by a vengeful pack of vampires; however they reached the path to the castle safely enough.

It wasn't until they were in the grounds of Frankenstein castle that Jefferson relaxed, his tension fading. Elizabeth was now on more familiar territory, and led Jefferson deeper into the garden until they reached her bench, empty and abandoned. Weeds had begun to creep around the edges, but Elizabeth's initial displeasure dissipated at the sight of the roses. As red as rubies, the large flowers dominated the wooden arch they entwined, with occasional snippets of their green stalk and pointed thorns.

"I've been looking after them for you: I knew if you returned this would be the first place you'd go to," a familiar voice called from behind them.

"Victor!" Elizabeth cried joyously, rushing over and embracing her brother.

"Honestly Elizabeth, for someone so small you can certainly crush people with a hug!" Victor said, smiling warmly at her as he stepped back and surveyed her, "I see you've realised that portal jumping isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"No, it's even better than I thought!" Elizabeth said, smiling broadly at him, "but travelling the realms does leave you rather homesick. Even Jefferson was missing this place."

"Jefferson's with you?" Victor asked sharply, looking past Elizabeth to see Jefferson, who had lingered back from the reunion.

"Victor," Jefferson curtly nodded, and glanced questioningly across at Elizabeth, "Actually we're also here because-"

"I've really missed you Victor," Elizabeth hastily continued, "my goodbye at the wedding was so rushed, I know there's still a lot that we need discuss."

"If you haven't got anywhere else to visiting, perhaps you could stay for dinner? Igor's doing your favourite Elizabeth- roast dinner."

"Yes, that sounds lovely," Elizabeth chirped, taking Victor's arm and leading him up to the castle before Jefferson had a chance to speak to him, enthusiastically questioning Victor on his experiments.

As Jefferson followed behind them, he attempted to make sense of Elizabeth's shift in mood before coming to the realisation that Elizabeth was determined to keep her being ill a secret from her brother too.

* * *

"And yet I couldn't have been more wrong," Elizabeth said, "thinking the fairies were going to be friendly. The second they realised one of the bags of fairy dust had gone, they turned as ferocious as those lost boys from Neverland, isn't that right Jefferson?"

Jefferson looked up from staring at the rather unappetising meal before him, snapping out of his thoughts. Elizabeth had been in the middle of yet another anecdote from their travels, and Jefferson had stopped listening, wondering whether the he was put off the dinner by the fact that it had been overcooked, or appeared bland as it was in black and white.

"Yes, they were rather fierce…" he said, looking over at Victor, hoping to catch his eye.

_'Surely he can see that something isn't right with his own sister?'_

Elizabeth laughed, before eating a blackened carrot. She swallowed hard, her brightness fading as panic flashed in her eyes.

"Excuse me for a moment," she announced, her voice quavering slightly, though Elizabeth gave them both a reassuring smile before hurrying from the dining room.

The second she was gone, Victor turned to Jefferson.

"What's wrong with Elizabeth? She's hardly herself," he snapped accusingly.

"I don't know- that's why I brought her here, so you could tell me!" Jefferson replied, goaded by Victor seeming to blame him, "I tried to tell you, but I don't think Elizabeth wants you to know."

"I did wonder why she was being so conversational: Elizabeth's never taken that much interest in my work, and she's barely eaten anything, yet Elizabeth's always had a huge appetite."

"To be fair, colourless food isn't really that appealing," Jefferson quipped and Victor sighed.

"Look, we're both concerned about Elizabeth, but you're the one who's been with her these past few weeks. I can't diagnose what's wrong with her unless you tell me what other symptoms she's been displaying."

"Well, she's been acting oddly for a while, but it was just little things: always being tired, mood swings, I didn't really think much of it. But recently, she's been getting worse, eating less, and she'd been sick twice today. We'd stolen from some trolls and she claimed it was the stench of them that had made her ill, but I wasn't convinced. I should have brought her to you sooner, but I thought it would just pass over…"

Victor nodded slowly, taking in the information, his mouth set grimly. For a moment they were both silent, Jefferson watching him, waiting for an answer.

"Has she been sick before?" He asked and Jefferson shook his head.

"Are you sure?" Victor pressed, the urgency in his voice making Jefferson reconsider his answer as he recalled the past few weeks.

"I haven't seen her be sick until today, but I think she has been sick before…about a fortnight ago, I did a chicken pie, she used to love that, but she didn't eat much of it, said the smell of chicken made her feel funny. Then the next day, she came out the bathroom looking rather pale, exactly like she did after she was sick earlier. But I think that was just food-poisoning, because after a day or two, she was alright."

"Oh, I think you've given her more than food poisoning," Victor muttered darkly, his knuckles clenched on the table, before he suddenly rose and stormed from the room.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jefferson called after him, following the doctor through the hallway and up the staircase. Victor didn't reply, rushing up the steps like a man possessed. They reached the landing and Victor suddenly whirled around, looking angrier than Jefferson had ever seen him.

"I think you know what I mean. You just won't admit it," he retorted, before going straight to the door diagonally opposite the staircase and trying the door handle.

Despite his force, the door didn't open. Victor furiously slammed his fist against the door, startling Jefferson from trying to make sense of Victor's implications.

"Elizabeth! Unlock this door now!" Victor yelled, thunderously pounding on the door. From behind the door came Elizabeth's voice.

"Go away Victor," She cried hoarsely, as though she was struggling to hold back tears, and Victor dropped his hand.

"Elizabeth, please unlock the door for me. I need to talk to you," he said, his voice breaking at the sound of her muffled sobs, "please, Elizabeth."

The click of the lock shifting echoed through the silent hallway, and Victor cautiously pressed against the door, which gently swung open. Through the gap Jefferson could see the edge of a bathtub, and the glistening white tiles along the wall. Victor stepped into the bathroom, blocking his view. Jefferson leant against the doorway, watching as Victor approached his sister, who was curled up on the floor in an almost foetal position, except that she was upright, her back pressed to the sink.

Elizabeth was so pale, it was as though her skin had become translucent, emphasised by her wide eyes, as dark as coal. Her whole body shook with each sob, and as Victor knelt down before her, she let out a whimper, weeping uncontrollably.

"Come here to gloat?" Elizabeth choked out, "to tell me that you were right…that you knew this would happen…"

"No, Elizabeth, of course I'm not," Victor said softly, reaching out to her, his arms wrapping around her, and he pulled Elizabeth into him.

Her head buried into his chest as she cried and Victor patted her back soothingly. Jefferson remained stood in the doorway, feeling rather removed from the scene, watching brother console sister. He couldn't bear to see her so broken, and vulnerable, yet Jefferson felt powerless to do anything. All he could do was watch as Victor comforted Elizabeth whilst she sobbed even harder.

Eventually, Elizabeth withdrew from him, her voice trembling as she suddenly burst,

"I don't know what to do Victor, I'm not ready, I can't-"

"Elizabeth, everything's going to be fine," Victor said calmly as Elizabeth's eyes searched his face for any suggestion that he was lying, "it's not your fault, okay?"

Victor turned and gave Jefferson a disgusted look, shaking his head.

"You can't blame him Victor," Elizabeth said, grabbing Victor's arm as if to forcefully tear his gaze from Jefferson's.

"I bloody well can when he leaves you," Victor muttered.

"I'm not going to leave her!" Jefferson snapped, finding his voice, starting towards Victor.

"Why do you think she's been trying to keep this from you? Because she knows you'll leave her!"

Jefferson looked past Victor to the ashen Elizabeth, who guilty nodded in agreement as she sat on the floor.

"Victor warned me, months ago, what you'd do if this happened, and then Regina too. She saw me being sick in Rumplestiltskin's garden, and she knew straight away why. She said that you wouldn't stay once you knew and that you'd never give up being a portal-jumper. It's crazy but I thought that if I didn't tell you, somehow, it'd go away…" Elizabeth trailed away, unable to speak as her body was convulsed by sobs.

"I, I don't understand," Jefferson said, stepping past Victor so that he stood over Elizabeth.

Wiping away her tears, Elizabeth rose precariously, though she was stable enough to stand, gazing up at him. Their eyes met, and everything around them blurred as he stared at her, and slowly his eyes trailed down to her deceivingly flat stomach, as the realisation jolted inside of him. Jefferson could see the rich, extravagant life that he'd built up for himself crashing down around him Elizabeth's dry lips uttered the fact that he'd been trying to deny for so long:

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

**A/N: *cue dramatic music* So finally, what this story has been building up to! I'm just about to go holiday and I didn't want to risk not being able to upload. However, I won't update for the rest of this week, but as this chapter is the longest to date, it should keep you going!**


	31. Chapter 31

Taking a deep breath, Jefferson stared at the whirl of unfocused grey landscape before him. The cold air caught in his throat, scraping against his skin like a dagger. His mind was an unravelled web of thoughts and memories, flickering from one snapshot to another before he could fully settle upon one notion. The only thing he was truly aware of was his breathing- his rapid intakes of breath had slowly begun to settle as the countryside he was staring into gradually sharpened. There was a faint buzzing sound in his ears that he recognised as someone shouting his name.

Despite the howling wind that gusted overhead, Victor's voice, with anger etched into every syllable, clearly rang out through the garden. The gnawing feeling of dread in the pit of Jefferson's stomach only increased at the thought of an impending lecture from Victor about impregnating his sister.

Without even turning from gazing out at the black and white land that stretched out before him, Jefferson yelled back, "Before you say it, you're right, okay? I can't do this! I'm only nineteen years old for gods' sakes- I'm meant to out drinking and enjoying my life: not raising a child!"

"Elizabeth's barely eighteen!" Victor retorted, his voice growing louder, and closer, with each word. "It amazes me just how selfish you can sometimes Jefferson. To be quite frank, if you don't want the responsibility of being a parent, you shouldn't be bloody bedding my sister in the first place!"

As Jefferson caught Victor's words, he turned to see him approaching from behind a wall of hedges.  
Infuriated, and knowing that their distance from the castle and the screaming wind could hide his words, Jefferson bitterly hissed back, "I've probably had sex with your sister more times than you've had with any woman. I'm surprised that you haven't taken a vow of celibacy: you hardly ever come out of that laboratory."

The harsh wind whipped at the tails of Victor's coat as he stepped closer to Jefferson, his clenched fists shaking against either leg.

"Be glad that Elizabeth cares for you too much to allow me to punch you: not that you deserve her love," Victor spat venomously, "now get out of my garden."

"What?"

"You heard me: get out. Leave. The only thing that's keeping you here are any residual feelings you may have for Elizabeth, although I'm sure with some alcohol and another woman, they'll soon fade," Victor paused, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he added. "If this is your attitude, Elizabeth and the baby will probably be better off without you anyway."

Fuming, Jefferson stared after the doctor, who had stormed off towards the castle, seeing that his cutting remark had sunk in. As Victor's words replayed in his head, Jefferson deliberated over doing as he said and going back through the steel door to the enchanted forest: and never returning. Although his anger almost tempted him, Jefferson could feel another emotion inside of him, one that seared at the thought of how much he'd already hurt Elizabeth, and how devastated she would be if he did leave her, just as she'd feared.

_'I have to prove her wrong: prove them all wrong,'_ he thought, the little pride he had left flaring.

Before he could change his decision, Jefferson started after Victor, breaking into a run as he darted through the maze of black and white bushes, spiked stems and withered trees. As Jefferson caught sight of red flashes from Elizabeth's roses, the sensation in his chest grew stronger still, something greater than his pride, an emotion so strong and unknown that Jefferson couldn't resist it, and he ran even faster.

"Wait! Victor!" Jefferson rapidly came to a halt as Victor finally stopped before slowly turning to face him.

"Yes?" His glare was as frigid as his tone, and Jefferson hesitated, letting out a gasp for air.

"If I leave, I have nothing real to go back to- not without Elizabeth. I don't think that is what's really bothering me, it's the fear that maybe you're right: maybe I'm not good enough for her? Because it's not just Elizabeth anymore...there's a baby too," his words came out in a rush, his confession releasing itself, "I mean, how I am supposed to be a good parent if my own abandoned me? How I am supposed to love and care for a child if nobody ever showed me that when I was growing up? Your sister is the first person who's ever really cared about me, Victor, and that's why I love her. I know you don't have many reasons to believe me, but really, I love her, truly, I do. What I feel for her isn't a mere infatuation, nor is it some lustful desire. Her beauty isn't like any other woman I've been with- it's the way that her eyes lit up each time we step into a different realm, it's in the stories that she knows off by heart, the tiny furrow in her forehead when she's writing. Plus, I don't want my child to have to wonder what they did to make their father not want them, like I wonder about my own parents..."

Jefferson trailed off, realising just how much he had told Victor. He kept his eyes locked to the ground and awaited for Victor to make another biting remark. The garden fell silent around them; even the wind seemed to die away as Victor cleared his throat and muttered stiffly,

"It seems I may have misjudged you," Jefferson looked up and caught Victor's glance, that Jefferson perceived to appear slightly remorseful. "I must admit, although you're not quite who I'd expected would father Elizabeth's child, I'm glad that it's you, rather than that vampire."

Jefferson nodded, knowing that was that was the closest he'd get to an apology from Victor, "So you're happy that I stole her away from the Count at their wedding?"

"Yes, I suppose so," Victor sighed, "although I did have to compensate the Count for you choking his guests with those foul-smelling gases."

Jefferson grinned widened as he recalled the powerful effects of the dungbombs, "He hasn't given you any trouble since?"

"No, you forged my father's signature pretty well. Everybody has accepted that it's his, and that the money is therefore mine. Once the Count figured he wasn't going to get anything, he went back to Transylvania, or wherever his coven were from."

"Ah well, I might have used magic to do that signature," Jefferson admitted, and Victor rolled his eyes.

The mention of magic reminded Jefferson of the pouch in his satchel, and he handed it to Victor, "Before I forget: this is from Rumplestiltskin."

Victor gave an appreciative nod before tucking the pouch into his coat pocket; whilst Jefferson tugged open the back door of the castle.

"You do realise you're going to have to make some pretty big changes in becoming a parent?" Victor said, lighting a nearby candle.

Jefferson shrugged as he bounded up the stone staircase, "I know, I know." Ignoring Victor's unconvinced sigh, he continued, "Since when did you become the expert in childcare anyway?"

"My childhood wasn't all spoilt and staying at nice summer houses like you might assume. My mother died when both Gerhadt and Elizabeth were still young, and seeing as though our father loved whisky more than his three children, it fell on me, as the eldest, to look after them both," Victor explained.

Jefferson came to a halt on the penultimate step and whirled around, looking at Victor with disbelief.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be: there's not much you can now- he's dead," Victor said in his usual matter-of-fact tone, before darkly adding, "let's just say that he's one person that I won't attempt to resurrect."

He caught up with Jefferson at end of the passageway as Jefferson rounded the corner to find himself back in the bright hallway.

"Elizabeth's in her bedroom, the second room on the right of the staircase. I gave her a few books from the library to calm her down, though I'm sure seeing you will improve her mood considerably. I'll be in my laboratory if you need me."

To Jefferson's surprise, Victor gave him a hint of a smile, before giving a slight nod and turning towards the laboratory, whilst Jefferson hurried up the staircase. Finding her room, Jefferson stopped outside the door, which had been left slightly ajar. Although the room sounded silent, Jefferson gave a hesitant knock.

"Come in," Elizabeth's voice called hoarsely.

Apprehensively, Jefferson stepped through the doorway to find Elizabeth quite comfortably lay on top of her bed, her upper body propped up with pillows, her face hidden by the cover of a book.

"It's funny," Elizabeth murmured, not even taking her eyes from the page, "no matter how strong an emotion is, somehow losing yourself in a novel makes it all disappear. Do you ever feel like that with your hat, Jefferson?"

"I suppose- the rush of adrenaline and the thrill of the hat's magic is enough to counter any other emotions," Jefferson said, glancing bemusedly over the top of the book in hope of seeing her face, "but how did you know it was me without looking?"

Elizabeth lowered the book with a sheepish smile, "Your footsteps sounded different to Victor's. Plus you had the decency to knock, whereas Victor has a tendency to walk straight in: hence I locked the bathroom door earlier."

She paused, averting his eyes for a moment, knowing that they were both recalling what had occurred only a quarter of an hour ago.

Neither spoke until Elizabeth said softly, "I'm glad you came back,"

"Sorry for storming off like that...I just needed to think."

"It's okay. I know it's a lot to take in," Jefferson nodded in agreement before tentatively sitting down on the edge of the bed. Elizabeth sat up slightly and rested a hand on top of his.

"Did you really think I'd leave you?" He couldn't help but ask, unable to hide the injured tone to his voice.

Elizabeth remained silent, though her guilty expression told Jefferson all he needed to know.

"Victor and Regina did make a pretty convincing case," Elizabeth said apologetically, "and I always got the impression that having children was the last thing on your mind- you can hardly travel the realms with a baby. I was going to tell you, but after Regina pretty much confirmed my suspicions I was too scared to tell you in fear of losing you."

"I'm scared too," Jefferson said, "I don't exactly know much about parenting. You and the baby, you both deserve someone better than me. I'm just an illiterate thief with a magical hat! What if-"

"Jefferson!" Elizabeth interrupted, "You were right below my window whilst you were speaking to Victor, and you spoke with such conviction that it ought to be me who's wondering if I'm good enough- for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I'd tell you that I fell in love with you the moment I met you, but I'd be lying. You see, I didn't invite you out on the balcony at the ball because I thought you were my prince, come to rescue me from a vampire fiancé but because you were exactly the sort of man I was meant to stay away from. At first I only wanted to be with you because I wanted to have something in my life that wasn't chosen for me by someone else. But as I got to you know you, I realised that I loved you: for whom you are really, the side that you only show to me. It doesn't matter that you're not some charming prince, because I have my faults too. Maybe we're both are not good enough for each other?"

"You're too good for anyone else," Jefferson murmured, prising his hand from beneath hers and lacing his fingers around hers.

Elizabeth's sombre features broke as her lips curved into a bashful smile and she gently leant into him.

"Don't worry about the baby: I know we can do this, because we'll care for and love our child the way our parents didn't for us," Her whispered words warmed his skin, the glow of her cheeks brushing his as Elizabeth kissed him.

Jefferson sidled up the bed towards her, but their entwined hands caused him to fall forward. The weight of him forced Elizabeth to sink back onto the bed, and she laughed as her head hit the pillow, watching as Jefferson almost landed on top of her. Their hands flew apart and Jefferson landed on his knees, with his legs stretched out to the point of nearly ripping his tight leather trousers, whilst his arms were either side of Elizabeth's chest, his thumbs brushing her shoulders.

Elizabeth grinned up at him, their faces mere millimetres apart. The tip of her nose touched his and her eyes sparkled with mirth. Breathing heavily as he caught his breath, Jefferson frowned in confusion and Elizabeth nodded towards the edge of the bed. Tilting his head, Jefferson saw an upside down, and rather unimpressed, Victor stood watching them in what Jefferson realised appeared to be rather compromising position.

"I told you: he just walks straight in," Elizabeth muttered with an exasperated sigh, and Jefferson bit down hard on his tongue to stop himself from laughing.

"I'm afraid you'll have to wait about seven and a half more months before making any more babies," Victor said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

Turning the gasp of laughter that had escaped him into a cough, Jefferson hurriedly straightened up and swung his leg over Elizabeth's body so that he could sit on the side of the bed.

"That wasn't what it looked like," Jefferson assured Victor, who gave an unconvinced sigh, shaking his head as he glanced over at Elizabeth who had also sat up.

Her head was in her hands, and Jefferson could hear her giggling madly. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth lifted her head, appearing to have regained her composure.

"We were just about to discuss how Jefferson and I could work portal jumping around the baby, when things got a little...physical," Elizabeth said, smirking up at her brother.

There was a daring glint in her eyes as she awaited his reaction, and Jefferson wondered just how close to home he had been with his comment on Victor not seeming to engage in romantic relationships.

However, Victor seemed unmoved by Elizabeth's remark, save rolling his eyes before continuing purposefully, "You are going to stop portal jumping, surely?"

"Well, I suppose," Elizabeth said, glancing across at Jefferson, who was regarding her answer with interest, "I can't exactly portal jump once I get to the second trimester: I'll get too big. But in the long-term, I don't see why we have to stop. We could still travel the realms with our child, right Jefferson?"

"Maybe…I don't really know. Like you said, we still need to talk about, see what Rumplestiltskin has to say about it."

"But surely the constant travel from one realm to another would be impractical with a new-born child? Perhaps you ought to consider settling down?" Victor pressed, and a smile slowly crept along Elizabeth's lips as she realised what he was implying.

"Oh, you want us here, don't you: keep an eye on us, no doubt?" She teased, "And anyway, we already have a home in the enchanted forest. But I promise we'll visit-I need someone to check up on this baby from time to time…and perhaps deliver them?"

Elizabeth smile widened into a wicked grin as Victor screwed his face up with repulsion at the suggestion.

"I'm a scientist, not a midwife!" And don't you think there are some things that I shouldn't see?"

"You are a doctor too: and it's not like you haven't seen me naked or anything," Elizabeth said nonchalantly.

She glanced from Victor to Jefferson, raising her eyebrows at the sight of his taken-back look from the revelation.

Victor hurriedly spluttered out an explanation, his pale cheeks darkening as he flushed with embarrassment, "It's a little different when you're seven and ten, Elizabeth!"

"How about sixteen and nineteen?" Elizabeth demanded, shooting Victor a look that only made him more mortified.

"That was an honest mistake- Gerhadt tricked me...I didn't realise you were taking a bath..."

"What have I got myself into?" Jefferson muttered, his tone deadpan as he shook his head at the pair.

"Don't worry, not all families are as dysfunctional as ours," Elizabeth laughed, before her expression suddenly grew serious, "Although I would like my child to have a normal family-"

"Is to make up for the fact that their parents will be working for the most feared person in their realm and that they'll be travelling from one land to another?" Victor interrupted and Elizabeth gave him her most formidable stare.

"-a normal family that doesn't argue all the time. You've both got to promise me no more snide comments or glaring daggers at one another," She looked over at Jefferson, who was still perched on the bed, "I could hear you two bickering in the garden. Go on, shake hands."

With Elizabeth's eyes boring into his back, Jefferson rose and reluctantly outstretched a hand which Victor grudgingly shook.

"There, that wasn't so hard," Elizabeth chided, hurriedly covering her mouth as she gave a huge yawn.

The lack of colour only accentuated the dark circles beneath her eyes, and Jefferson was guiltily reminded of how worn out Elizabeth would be after what had become a rather long day.

"I know there's still things we need to talk over, but now probably isn't the best time. It's been one heck of day, and there's around a six-hour difference between here and the enchanted forest: if we go now, you should be able to get a couple of hours sleep Elizabeth, and we can see Rumplestiltskin first thing in the morning?" He suggested.

"I'm not tired," Elizabeth protested, but another yawn betrayed her.

She stretched out slightly on the bed, "Can't we stay the night here? If Rumplestiltskin can see into the future then he probably knew that we were going to have a child before it'd even been conceived! He already knew that we were going to the land without colour without being told, so surely he'll have already foreseen all of this? Anyway, Regina's still got a long way to go before she'll be able to change her appearance into anyone else, so if Rumplestiltskin is working with her, he won't miss us for one day?"

"I think you should stay the night: I'd like to make sure that Elizabeth is definitely healthy enough to be gallivanting across the realms," Victor agreed.

"It's perfectly normal to be nauseous when you're pregnant, in fact it's called morning sickness," Elizabeth explained, "there are a couple of articles in those scientific journals of yours on pregnancy; the only things that I know are from reading them. I can show them to you tomorrow morning? You don't mind spending the night here, do you Jefferson?"

"No, no it's fine," Jefferson glanced across at Victor, "what are we going to do in terms of sleeping arrangements?"

"Elizabeth's bed is a double: there's room for both of you," Victor briskly replied, before narrowing his eyes with a frown.

"I didn't know if you'd be comfortable with Elizabeth and I sleeping...together?" Jefferson explained, clearing his throat as he trailed away.

Elizabeth broke the momentary silence with a laugh at the pair's expressions, waving a hand as if to shoo away Victor.

"Would you be a dear Victor and lock the door after you?" She asked, smiling sweetly up at him.

Victor's mouth opened as if he was about say something, but instead he promptly turned and stalked out of the room, catching the door behind him before it slammed. The lock clicked shut and Elizabeth grinned at Jefferson, struggling to stifle a laugh at his concerned look.

"Don't mind him; you did the right thing to ask. And thank you for agreeing to settle things between you two. I know Victor comes across as being rather protective, but I think he sometimes forgets that he's my brother, not my father."

"I think it's going to take more than a handshake to settle things," Jefferson muttered, putting his hands behind his head as he lay down on the sheets beside Elizabeth, "he knows exactly how to annoy me with those snide comments; I can't help but want to wipe that smug smirk from his face."

"You're not the one who's spent the last thirteen years growing up with him! It's not personal; Victor's like that with almost everyone. You've got the bigger man and not respond. It's hard, I know, but I think your ego can take it."

Elizabeth gave an indignant cry as Jefferson jabbed his forefinger into her arm. She rolled over and pouted at him, looking over his shoulder. Elizabeth's eyes widened and Jefferson twisted his head to see the small silver clock on the bedside table read ten pm.

"I hadn't realised it was so late!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"We've stayed up until the early hours of morning back home," Jefferson smirked, and Elizabeth blushed.

"Yes, and here we're going to sleep." She said firmly, looking down at her rumpled clothes, "I'm too tired to change- and you don't have anything to change into...I'm surprised Victor hasn't brought you anything actually."

"He knows," Jefferson muttered.

Elizabeth stared at him, her jaw slackening, "How on earth did Victor find out that you sleep-"

"I was really drunk, but I do remember telling him. Somehow I get the feeling Victor hasn't forgotten."

"I can't believe he's actually letting us sleep in the same bed!" Elizabeth giggled, sinking back into sheets.

She curled her body against his, her eyes closing. Jefferson placed an arm over her; the other ran through the loose waves that covered her shoulder.

"I can sleep in my clothes too...or not?" He asked, and Elizabeth's pillow hit his head.

"I really don't care if you're naked or not- I just want to sleep!" Elizabeth hissed, shifting herself away from him.

She leant over to where the candle was burning and blew it out. Jefferson was surprised by just how dark the room was. Illuminated by the streak of moonlight through the curtains, Jefferson could see the outline of Elizabeth's figure, her shoulder touching her jaw, her knees tucked into her body.

Jefferson carefully grew closer to her again, his voice a low whisper in her ear, "You'll be cold in just this dress."

Elizabeth didn't reply, but she didn't resist when Jefferson gently wrapped his arm back around her and placed a kiss on the back of her head. The strawberry scent enveloped his senses, and as Jefferson's eyes closed, he felt Elizabeth's hand take his and guide it along her dress so that it rested below her stomach. In the darkness and its silence, Jefferson could have almost sworn he could hear a faint heartbeat thudding in his mind.


	32. Chapter 32

The yellow brick road that they walked on seemed to trail on forever: winding into the horizon, disappearing at the entrance to the woods they were approaching. Oz's permanent sunshine glistened down on him, but Jefferson's focus was on leaving Oz as soon as he could. Of all the realms, Oz was his least favourite: somehow Wonderland's nonsense gave him some semblance of sanity, whereas the chirpiness of the Munchkins was simply insufferable. Jefferson's hurried pace slowed as he glanced behind him, and was slightly irked to find that Elizabeth was some ten paces behind him.

Although Elizabeth had been his assistant for little over two months, this had been their first trip to Oz, and she was excited by every aspect of the overly exuberant land. As Jefferson strode back towards her, Elizabeth was gazing out at the lengths of well-kept cornfields that extended for miles beneath a brilliant blue sky, wooden fences just visible between the wavering stalks of corn. In the middle of the field directly opposite them was a scarecrow, though the crows he was intended to intimidate were perched on his arms, spitting out the husks of corn as they cawed.

Jefferson gave an impatient cough, and Elizabeth turned, snapping out of her reverie with a start.

"Sorry to keep you waiting- but isn't this place wonderful?" Elizabeth said, gesturing to the fields, a rather distant gleam in her eye.

"Not when you've seen it five times already," Jefferson retorted, and Elizabeth gave a sheepish smile in apology, "Come on; we haven't even reached the woods yet."

He held out a hand, and Elizabeth's slender fingers curled around his as they walked side by side. Jefferson kept his eyes fixated on the approaching trees, mentally imagining the swiftest route to the object Rumplestiltskin had sent them for.

"Follow the yellow brick road, follow, follow, follow…" Elizabeth's soft singing trailed away as Jefferson sighed exasperatedly and looked down at her with a frown.

"Stop singing that ridiculous Munchkin warble."

"But we're on the yellow brick road. And I don't understand quite what you have against the Munchkins, I think they're rather sweet," Elizabeth said.

Jefferson muttered something incomprehensible, his gaze returning to the path before them. To his delight, the glaringly bright yellow bricks began to darken, sheathed by the shadows of the thick trees that loomed overhead.

"Who are we looking for again?" Elizabeth asked, casting an apprehensive glance at the gnarled curls of branches that curved over the yellow brick road and the near darkness inside the woods.

"The tinsmith, his cabin is in the middle of the woods," Jefferson said.

Placing his hand around her shoulders, they entered the gloomy woods. Most of the bright sunshine had been blocked out by the dense canopy of leaves, with shards of light cracking through the shadows that lined the road that they cautiously walked down. As they went farther into the woods, the pristine bricks grew crumbled, knotted roots erupting through the cracks.

A small patch of bricks had worn away entirely; their dim surroundings making the chasm in the road appear incredibly deep. Unwinding his arm from around Elizabeth, Jefferson rested a hand on the brim of his hat before leaping over to the other side with ease. He landed on the other side, turning to see Elizabeth hesitating, frowning as she gazed at the gap, trying to judge whether she could make the jump.

"Here," Jefferson reached across, his hands firmly wrapping around her middle before he gently lifted her so that her feet almost brushed the road.

He leant back, his arms straining slightly as he turned, turning Elizabeth with him, around the gap so that she landed beside him. For a moment, Jefferson's hands lingered around her waist, his fingers pulling the fabric of her dress so that the outline of her growing belly was visible.

Although they had paid Victor another visit in the past fortnight, neither had really spoken of the baby or what was to happen in the foreseeable future, save agreeing with Rumplestiltskin that Elizabeth would continue to be Jefferson's assistant for another four months.

"Thanks," Jefferson's hands snapped away as Elizabeth spoke and he forced his attention to turn to her, "although Munchkinland was nice, this place is rather eerie."

Nodding in agreement, Jefferson ineptly placed his arm back around her shoulders as they continued on, unable to find the words to voice his wonderings. Around them, the woods grew darker still, making it almost impossible to see. Tightened his grip around Elizabeth, Jefferson gingerly guided her forward, his eyes fixed on the faint path beneath their feet. Whispers from the trees fluttered in the wind around them, accompanied by a cacophony of squawking crows that flew overhead, casting dark, winged shadows in the brief glimmers of light.

It had grown so dark that Jefferson kept one heel touching the other foot's toe as he walked, reassured only by the feel of Elizabeth's cool body nestled into him. His eyes were by now accustomed to the pitch black, and Jefferson could see that the arched branches began to disperse before them. More light crept through, revealing the grim bricks that they had been following. Lifting his gaze upwards, Jefferson saw the cabin at the same time as Elizabeth.

"We've found it," Elizabeth breathed, and he felt the tension in her shoulders fade underneath his hands.

Breaking free from his grip, Elizabeth started for the cabin, clambering through the tangles of bracken that wound around her feet. Jefferson followed her, the cabin properly coming into view.

Neat slate tiles lined the cabin's roof, with its protruding chimney, and the glossed white paint on the door appeared new, but Jefferson had his suspicions as they approached. No smoke arose from the chimney, and the door was bolted shut, a sign nailed to the wooden wall.

Stood on the porch of the cabin, Elizabeth read aloud the sign, "Out of business: ran out of tin."

She turned to Jefferson, a worried look in her eye.

"How are we supposed to get the axe if the tinsmith isn't repairing it?"

Before Jefferson could reply, a foghorn like sob erupted from the other side of the trees, startling them both. Without hesitation, Elizabeth started after the sobs, vanishing behind a thicket of trees.

"Elizabeth, wait!" Jefferson hurried after her, stumbling over a twisted root. Glancing down at his feet, Jefferson realised with a start that they had strayed from the yellow brick road, which was no longer in sight. Cursing under his breath, Jefferson rounded the corner, raising a hand to shield his eyes.

They had reached a clearing, the sunlight pouring in, blindingly bright. Squinting slightly, Jefferson found Elizabeth stood by something. As Jefferson approached, he saw that the light was bouncing off its metal surface, and that the something was in fact someone: a man.

His arms clutched the axe Rumplestiltskin desired, poised to chop into a tree. Except the man couldn't cut down the tree, as he was frozen in place, turned entirely into metal, apart from the tears that slid down his silver cheeks. Even his mouth was stuck, though his muffled voice still croaked out of his parted lips, the word oilcan just audible.

"Oilcan?" Elizabeth looked around in confusion, catching sight of the red oilcan by the tin man's feet. Picking it up, she carefully poured a few drops around his mouth. The tin man gasped for air, his lips creaking as he gave a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, thank you so much! You don't know how long I've been here."

"What happened to you?" Elizabeth studied him, a tin statue.

"I fell in love with a Munchkin maiden, but her mother disapproved of me and hired a witch to keep us apart. The witch cursed my axe so that each time I used it, the blade cut into me and not the tree," the tin man explained, his mouth trembling as more tears welled up in his still grey eyes, "The tinsmith gave me new parts made of tin, but he ran out and forgot to give me a heart! Then it rained on me and I've rusted into place here. Now I'll never find, or be able to love, my Munchkin maiden..."

"Please don't cry, you'll only rust more," Elizabeth said, tenderly wiping away the drops on the tin man's face.

She glanced back at Jefferson, gazing at him imploringly, pleading for them to help the tin man in his plight.

"Look, I don't carry a spare enchanted heart around with me," Jefferson said with a shrug, and Elizabeth huffed.

"But there must be something we can do?" She glanced into the oilcan in her hand and Elizabeth's face brightened as she looked up at the tin man, "there's enough oil in here to free your hands or feet?"

Jefferson stepped towards her and whispered sharply in Elizabeth's ear:  
"Pour it onto his hands so that his axe will be free. That's what we're here for."

"We can't just leave him!" Elizabeth hissed back.

Hearing their words, the tin man's metal lips twisting into a grin, "you were kind enough to free my mouth, and in return you may de-rust my hands and take my axe: I don't want it anyway."

Although she didn't seem fully convinced, Elizabeth poured the remaining oil onto the tin man's stiff hands. The axe fell as his fingers loosened which Jefferson swiftly caught and slipped into his satchel.

"Tomorrow you'll rust up again and the oilcan will refill," Jefferson said to the tin man as he slipped the axe into his satchel, "But in a few days' time, a girl…think her name's Dorothy, will come and fully free you, and if I remember correctly, I think she'll help you get a heart too."

"Now, to find our way home…" Elizabeth eyes darted around the clearing, her face falling at the sight of towering trees that circled around them, and the grassy floor beneath their feet.

"Are you looking for the yellow brick road?" The tin man asked, his joints groaning as he lifted his hand and pointed to the east, "go through those trees, and you'll join back onto the road."

"Thank you!" Elizabeth kissed the tin man's cheek in thanks, the shiny metal glowing.

Waving goodbye to the tin man, she caught up with Jefferson, who tipped his hat before they made their way through the trees and back onto the yellow brick road. The shadows consumed the path once more, but the road soon grew visible as they approached the entrance to the woods.

"Have we gone through time, as well as travelling realm?" Elizabeth suddenly asked, a curious gleam in her eye.

"Technically, every time you portal jump you travel through time, because each realm is a different time," Jefferson explained, "but yes, we are in the 'past', as you might put it: the last time I came here, a good six months ago, Dorothy had only just arrived."

"So the events that occur in the Wizard of Oz haven't happened yet?" Elizabeth said as they stepped back out into the bright sunshine.

The bricks that they walked on stretched out towards Munchkin land like a golden aisle, surrounded by the cornfields that swayed in the breeze.

"Nope," Jefferson said, his attention caught by the nearby cornfield. The tall stalks stood still, despite the cool chill that swept through the air.

"Does that mean that we could change the story: if we'd freed the tin man, rather than Dorothy?"

Jefferson sighed, a hand going to the back of his neck, where the hairs were stood up on end. He hardly had time to try and explain the ins and outs of time travel to Elizabeth, not when the witch had realised the cursed axe had gone.

"We need to go."

"But-"

"Now." His serious tone quietened Elizabeth's questions, and Jefferson took his hat from his head and tossed it onto the road before them, "jump."

The hat brought them back out on the outskirts of Munchkinland, though the wind still followed them, stronger than ever. Far in the east, the sky had darkened, turbulent grey clouds that spilled out across the blue sky. Crackles of lightning tingled in the air, and from their cottages, anxious Munchkins stared out at the sky.

"Ever wonder what brought the witch of the East to Munchkinland?" Jefferson asked, having to haul Elizabeth away from the quaint cottages and into the cornfields.

"I suppose, although it was always you who made comments when we read the Wizard of Oz," Elizabeth said, brushing away the wavering stalks of corn as she led the way through the field.

"Well, I think it's us," Jefferson helped Elizabeth over the final stile and they went back onto the path to the green curtain that was hung upon a door frame to the hat's hallway.

Behind them, the air rippled with energy, the midsummer sky almost completely transformed into a fiery storm. Tearing the curtain back, Jefferson motioned for Elizabeth to go first, and he followed behind her, pulling the fabric across tightly as they entered the hall. Elizabeth immediately slumped against the wall, her eyes closed she caught her breath.

"Are you alright?"

Elizabeth nodded, her head facing the marble floor, "The nausea's come back from earlier, but I'm alright, just in need of a cup of tea."

"I'll make you one once we get back: all we have to bring this axe and the rest of today's items to Rumplestiltskin, and the rest of the day is ours," taking Elizabeth's hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his other hand brushed the nape of her neck, the tendrils of her hair curling around his fingertips.

Crouching down so that they were level, Jefferson tilted his head and Elizabeth's blinking eyes opened to find she was face to face with him. Her wan features lit up as she laughed and pushed him away before rising. Her hand still comfortably in his, Elizabeth ambled across the hall with him, the warmth inside of Jefferson dwindling momentarily when their hands disconnected as Elizabeth pushed open the wooden door to the enchanted forest.

Despite everything, Jefferson couldn't help but smile as they crunched their way along the rugged pathway towards Rumplestiltskin's castle, the fallen leaves crackling underfoot. Autumn had fully arrived, bringing with it a northern wind that gushed silently through the trees. Jefferson cast a surreptitious glance at Elizabeth, who walked with a steady pace beside him, their entwined hands swinging back and forth.

Beside her, the forest seemed to transform, an aura of beauty rippling from her ivory skin. Around them, the leaves danced like flames in the breeze, swirls of misty air chilling their breath. Sensing the goose-bumps that lined her arms against his sleeve, Jefferson unwound his cravat with his free hand.

A rush of frosty air brushed the back of his neck, but Jefferson wrapped the silk fabric around Elizabeth's own bare neck, the material trailing down her shoulders in waves. Elizabeth let out a cry of surprise before smiling up at him, her cheeks and nose flushed from the cold, although her eyes still shone with merriment. Jefferson clasped her close to him as they reached the dark one's castle, his jaw resting on to top of her head.

Jefferson bound up the stone stairs to the castle, whilst Elizabeth followed behind him, never quite releasing his fingers from hers. Just as Jefferson's free hand was about to grasp the rounded door handle, the colossal castle doors swung open and they hurriedly stepped back as a fireball bolted through the doorway.

"What on earth was that?" Elizabeth asked, dropping her hand as she slipped past him and cautiously peered around the door. Through the reflection in the window beside them, Jefferson glimpsed another fireball hurtling towards them, though Elizabeth still remained by the door. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. Seconds later, another fireball whizzed past them, close enough for the flames to brush past Elizabeth's hair.

"Sorry," Regina's voice called from inside of the castle, sounding too smug to be even remotely apologetic, "I didn't see you."

Jefferson's grip on Elizabeth's shoulder tightened, but she writhed under his grasp and broke free, turning to face him.

"You go inside, I'll wait out here. I'd rather not be sick in the dark one's hallway again."

"I'll be quick, I promise," Jefferson wanted to kiss her, to wipe away that particular memory, but he was all too aware that Rumplestiltskin and Regina could probably see them through the window, so he settled for winding a stray hair out of her face and behind her ear. Quickly glancing in the window to be certain Regina wasn't about to hurtle another fire ball in the direction of the door, Jefferson strode into the castle, clearing his throat, as if to announce his presence.

Looking across at him, Regina's rather triumphant grin flickered at the sight of his rather peeved expression.

"It was a case of wrong place, wrong time. I was aiming for the door, I didn't realise anyone was behind it," Regina hurriedly explained, a hint of a snicker still upon her lips.

Before Jefferson could confront Regina about what he perceived to be quite blatantly throwing a fireball at his assistant, Rumplestiltskin, who had been stood observing the scene, announced:

"I trust you have the items?"

Jefferson gave a curt nod, not trusting himself to say anything without getting into an argument with Regina, who had gone back to studying from a large book on her desk. He flipped open his satchel and placed the various items down on the large dining table, finally removing the tin man's axe. Rumplestiltskin mused over each of the items; a wicked grin creeping across his face at the sight of the axe.

"Excellent, excellent…" The imp lifted up the axe and surveyed it in his scaled hands.

Not wishing to be rude, but conscious of Elizabeth waiting outside, Jefferson felt himself rock on his heels, his gaze drifting to the basket of golden thread by Rumplestiltskin's spinning wheel. Rumplestiltskin followed his gaze, before motioning to the basket.

"Take as much as you see fit."

As Jefferson strode over to the spools of gold, Rumplestiltskin vanished into an alcove that led off into the castle. Jefferson had stuffed the last of the coiled thread into his satchel when Rumplestiltskin returned, the axe no longer in his hand. The imp approached him, and Jefferson gestured to the door,

"I'm afraid I have to be going, Elizabeth isn't feeling that well-"

"Morning sickness, it's always bad the first time around," Rumplestiltskin interjected, briefly glancing at Regina, who appeared to studying, before stepping closer to Jefferson, his voice dropping to a low whisper, "and if you're wondering, which you are, a baby boy."

"What?" Jefferson's voice came out louder than he'd anticipated, echoing across the quiet hall. His eyes darted to Regina, but she still remained focused on her reading.

"You're having a son," Rumplestiltskin murmured, giving him a pointed look.

Jefferson stared blankly at him, his lips parting, but he was unable to form a coherent sentence.

"How…how you do know?" He managed, and Rumplestiltskin gave an exaggerated sigh, rolling his devious eyes.

"I can see into the future. Now go, you've kept that poor girl waiting long enough outside."

Muttering his thanks to Rumplestiltskin, Jefferson turned and headed for the door, still too dazed to fully comprehend what he'd been told.

_'I'm having a son….oh gods; I'm going to be a father…'_

But as he closed the door behind him, the haze cleared and Jefferson grinned. He was having a son.

"Why are grinning like that Cheshire cat?" Elizabeth's voice broke through his thoughts, and Jefferson blinked, her face coming into focus.

"I-we're-" Jefferson stopped before he blurted it out, "has Rumplestiltskin told you the gender of our child?"

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled back at him, the tiredness in her eyes fading into excitement, "we're having a girl!"

"He just told me that it was a boy."

"Oh," Elizabeth's face had fallen, her brow creasing as she gave a confused frown, "but he seemed pretty certain the other day that the baby was a girl."

"Well, he definitely said the word boy," Jefferson said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice.

Looking across at Elizabeth, who was shivering slightly, he guiltily remembered her saying that she felt nauseous, his desire to prove her wrong fading.

"He's probably just toying with us: telling us the gender we were each hoping for. Either that or the imp's not fully sure, so he'll tell us both, just in case he was initially wrong," Jefferson continued, watching Elizabeth with concern, "are you sure you'll be alright walking back home?"

Elizabeth gave a weak nod, briefly resting one hand on her stomach, using the other to push herself off the stone balcony that she had been resting against. Putting his arm around her, they headed back to the main path that wound through the enchanted forest. They had been down the smaller pathway that cut through the woodland to their village enough times for Elizabeth to know the way just as well as Jefferson did, and they soon reached the edge of the village, where their house on top of the hill stood. The hill wasn't especially steep, but Elizabeth blanched slightly as they approached the hill, swallowing hard, her hand tightly clutching Jefferson's.

"How about we have a party to go with those cups of tea?" Jefferson offered, seeing the exhausted expression upon her face.

"I really don't feel like eating right now."

"You say that every time that I make cake, and you still eat more than I do," he said teasingly and Elizabeth blushed with a remorseful smile.

"Our son or daughter has a sweet tooth," Laughed Elizabeth, matching Jefferson's steady pace up the hill.

As soon as he had unlocked the door, she bolted inside, and Jefferson headed for the kitchen, resolving to give Elizabeth a tea party that could take her mind off the unsavoury parts of her pregnancy.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer: this chapter contains a very mild reference to the use of drugs, hence this story being rated T. On a lighter note, *this is kind of spoilers* there is a rather big plot twist in this chapter: so brace yourselves...**

* * *

Since their afternoon tea party after Elizabeth's first trip to Oz, they had hosted several more tea parties. Having stolen for Rumplestiltskin earlier that day, Jefferson decided that before they paid Victor their monthly visit, he would treat Elizabeth to the craziest tea party he'd ever attended. He took her back to Wonderland.

They were stood before the looking glass, Elizabeth's eyebrows raised as she glanced over at him with a surprised smile, "this isn't the door to the land without colour?"

"I thought perhaps you'd like to have a tea party in the land that knows how to throw one in style?"

Elizabeth nodded vigorously; unable to hide the excitement that gleamed in her eyes. Her gaze briefly trailed to the sight of her stomach in the mirror.

"I think our child is going to grow to be quite the connoisseur in tea parties."

With a laugh, Jefferson wound an arm around Elizabeth's before nodding towards their reflections.

"Shall we?"

"Yes!"

Elizabeth's smile only broadened as they stepped into Wonderland; as colourful as ever. Similarly to Oz, the weather seemed to be stuck in a permanent summer day, though everything seemed just a little brighter and vibrant in Wonderland.

Mesmerised, Elizabeth set off down the path, the colourful flowers that bloomed over their heads having captured her attention. She was so engrossed that she walked straight through the hazy, azure ring that steamed from the Caterpillar's hookah, wandering off towards the Red Queen's court. Jefferson hurried after Elizabeth and caught her elbow before she could stray any further.

"It's this way Elizabeth," Jefferson said, smiling softly at her.

He led her back up the path, pointing out the different types of plant as they went, and ignoring the flowers' haughty corrections. Over-sized mushrooms and flowers loomed above them as they ventured further down the path. To his relief, Jefferson eventually found Wonderland nonsensical crossroads, where all the directions were the opposite.

As Jefferson tried to puzzle out where the Hatter's house was, he felt a ripple in the air. Something brushed past him, and Elizabeth felt it too: she turned her head, looking behind them in confusion. But Jefferson kept his gaze on the tree before them, where a pair of bright blue eyes had briefly flashed. Elizabeth turned back around, exclaiming at the head that deftly floated just above the lowest branch, "Cheshire! Now there's a face I couldn't forget!"

Purring contently to her, the Cheshire cat's infamous grin broadened as his body appeared.

"Where to this time?" The Cheshire cat drawled as he slowly blinked down at them.

"You'll only hound us if I tell you- and then report back to the red queen," Jefferson muttered with a dismissive wave of his hand, his attention remaining on deciphering the conflicting sign posts. Feeling the Cheshire cat's eyes boring into him, he resolved that they were to take the northern pathway. Glancing up at the cat, Jefferson added, "I have plans that don't involve getting chased out of this land by the queen's guards."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of such a thing!" The cat's tone sounded offended, but with its permanent smirk, Jefferson was unsure whether the cat was really being genuine. Simpering, the Cheshire cat added, "and I hardly think that the pretty thing by your side is in any position to run."

"I'm perfectly capable, thank you," Elizabeth snapped, though she self-consciously looked down at the now rather obvious bump in her dress.

Jefferson also stole a quick glance at her, and found that he secretly conceded to agreeing with the smirking Cheshire cat. From beside Elizabeth, he could clearly see the rounded shape that stuck out from her still fairly petite frame. Jefferson hadn't fully realised just how big Elizabeth had grown over the past few weeks until he had caught sight of her reflection in the looking glass. She still had another three months of portal jumping, unless Rumplestiltskin relented to changing the agreement that they'd made after Elizabeth had first announced her pregnancy. Realising that he'd been staring for a little too long, Jefferson cleared his throat, hurriedly shifting his eyes up towards the branch where the Cheshire cat was perched.

"Which way do we go now, Jefferson?" Elizabeth pointedly remarked, still glowering at the seemingly unfazed Cheshire cat.

"This way…I think," Jefferson motioned to the pathway directly in front of them that meandered off towards the heart of Wonderland.

"Let's go then: I'm intrigued to see where you want to take me."

They started down the pathway, though out of the corner of his eye, Jefferson glimpsed the Cheshire cat beginning to fade away again, and knew that they were being tailed.

"I thought you said that you were avoiding the Queen?"

"I am," Jefferson didn't even bother to look back at the cat that he could feel against the back of his neck. He shrugged to stop the cat from latching onto his shoulders, still close behind them.

"Then you're going the wrong way…" Called the Cheshire cat, his feline voice a teasing whisper in his ear.

Jefferson swatted, but his fingers only touched air.

"I know which way I'm going," Jefferson lied, gesturing to the air, unsure of where the cat had now vanished to.

"Over here."

He followed the irritatingly sing-song voice and glared up at the Cheshire cat, who had reappeared on the wall of the Duchess's mansion, his maniacal smirk wider than ever.

"Don't worry, I won't go any further: if you do lose your way, or head, you know who to call."

"We'll keep you in mind," Elizabeth said, a perplexed look on her face at the faint sound of smashing of china that came from the open window in the mansion.

"Come on, you really don't want to incur the wrath of that cook when they've had too much pepper." Jefferson said, giving Elizabeth's hand a tug.

They continued on, following the path as it lead deeper into Wonderland. The woodland around them soon faded away into bright sunlight, replaced by the edge of the hedges that marked the boundary to the Red Queen's gardens.

"Those red roses look rather familiar," Elizabeth mused, her gaze fixated upon the brief glimpses of red roses that could be seen through the hedges.

"I may have stolen a few for you."

Elizabeth turned to him, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"You stole from a queen: for me?" She asked, attempting to be scolding, but unable to hide the hint of pleasure in her voice.

"It takes more than a queen with a fascination for chopping off heads to stop me," Jefferson said, giving Elizabeth a flirtatious wink, before adding, "Especially if it's for you."

Stifling a laugh, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing like an infatuated school girl, her cheeks flushed with decadence at his remark. Swinging their entwined hands, she strolled amiably alongside him; suddenly halting as a rounded ball whizzed out of the hedge and across the path. The ball unfurled to reveal a rather disgruntled hedgehog that shook his head before burrowing away into the undergrowth.

"Did you see that?" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking back over at the Queen's gardens in fascination. Flashes of a flamingo's head shot up from behind the hedge, shrill shouts growing increasingly louder. As they rounded the corner, a gate appeared in an archway of the hedge, and they spied the Queen's out of control croquet game.

"They're playing croquet: with flamingos and hedgehogs? That's hardly the most sensible idea."

"Oh yes," Jefferson sighed, "and sensible is not a word in Wonderland's dictionary. Now unless you want to be beheaded, I think we should take this right."

Laughing, Elizabeth followed him down a new path: one that spiralled down comprised of stone steps. They reached the bottom and found themselves in a small meadow not too dissimilar to the one that Jefferson had brought Elizabeth to on her birthday. Laughing, Elizabeth followed him down a new path: one that spiralled down comprised of stone steps. They reached the bottom and found themselves in a small meadow not too dissimilar to the one that Jefferson had brought Elizabeth to on her birthday. As Jefferson scanned the expanse of meadows for any sign of one of the Hatter or March Hare's tea parties, he wondered if they truly were lost, until he saw the house at the end of the field.

From a distance, it seemed to be a rather nondescript house, but as they drew closer, Jefferson realised that the two chimneys were shaped like ears, the thatching of the roof sprouted up like tufts of fur. He had brought Elizabeth to the right place: confirmed by the table set out before the house, in which the March hare sat at, surrounded by many empty seats and various crockery.

Seeing them approaching, the March Hare promptly rapped at the tea pot, the Dormouse's head popping out, glancing around like a startled meerkat before sliding back into the teapot. Jefferson and Elizabeth reached the table, Jefferson slipping into the seat opposite the hare.

"The wanderer's returned," remarked the March hare, raising his tea cup as if to toast to Jefferson. The March hare glanced up at Elizabeth, who was hesitantly stood beside the table.

"You can sit down too: here, have some tea," the hare said, taking hold of the teapot and pouring out into a mismatching cup.

There was a muffled squeak, and the top of the teapot flew off, the Dormouse's head reappearing, drenched in tea.

"I was sleeping," the Dormouse cried indignantly, looking across at the table, her eyes widening at the sight of Jefferson sprawled on the seat, his feet outstretched so that they were resting on the edge of the table.

"You're back! You haven't visited in months!"

"He's been busy," The March hare interrupted, grabbing the Dormouse by the tail and unceremoniously dumping her on the table, droplets of tea dribbling onto the stained tea cloth.

The March hare turned his attention back to Elizabeth, who had remained stood uncertainly by the table.

"Come, sit," the hare said, the chair next to Jefferson's slide out, and Elizabeth obeyed, "any friend of Jefferson's is a friend of ours."

The Dormouse tutted in disagreement, striding between the plates to where Elizabeth had sat. Her beaded eyes scrutinised Elizabeth, who had the teacup to her lips.

"What's your name?"

"Elizabeth, what's yours?"

"Dormouse," the Dormouse said, taking in all of Elizabeth, her eyes landing on Elizabeth's stomach.

The mouse turned to Jefferson, shaking her head.

"I see you've already got a bun in the oven, without our approval."

Jefferson snorted, stifling his laughter under the Dormouse's stern gaze as he hurriedly swallowed the slice of toast that he'd taken.

"Since when did I need your approval?"

"Who knows what sort of girl she could be," the Dormouse continued, her voice lowering to a whisper that was still rather audible, "she seems to be a bit...normal- don't you think, March hare?"

The March hare shook his head indifferently, pushing a plate of chocolates encouragingly towards Elizabeth, who had lowered her tea cup and was watching the Dormouse.

"Normal? What's wrong with being-"

"Elizabeth is far from normal, I assure you: after all, anyone who enters Wonderland has to be just a tad crazy," Jefferson said, taking a swig of his tea.

"Still..." The Dormouse turned back to Elizabeth, eyeing her suspiciously.

Sipping her cup of tea whilst avoiding the Dormouse's hostile gaze, Elizabeth asked Jefferson, "You know these two well then?"

Jefferson saw the curious gleam in her eye and poured himself another cup of tea before taking a gulp of the warm, tingling beverage.

"I used to come here lots as a child," he explained, "Wonderland was the first realm that I ever travelled to: I've had quite a few tea parties here."

"I see," Elizabeth said, looking down at the plate that the March hare had been pushing towards her.

Seeing the chocolates, her eyes widened.

"I haven't had any chocolate in ages!" Elizabeth marvelled, her hands reaching out before she remembered her manners, "can I have one?"

"Stupid child," the Dormouse muttered, "of course you can, why would we offer you something and not let you have it?"

"Thank you," Elizabeth took a chocolate, the rich cocoa coating her lips as she bit into the chocolate, a blissful look overcoming her face.

Washing it down with some tea, Elizabeth took another chocolate. Watching her eat, the Dormouse grinned and leant back against Jefferson's teacup, her tail flicking out from the edge of the saucer. Taking a slice of the rich ginger cake that had always been his favourite, Jefferson too relaxed as the Dormouse began to chat rather amiably to Elizabeth, having forgotten her initial distrust.

But Jefferson should have known better than to relax, and realised a little too late why the Dormouse and March Hare were all too eager for Elizabeth to try a chocolate.

Jefferson had tried one himself, the strong taste of liqueur hitting his taste-buds, but he instantly recognised the suspiciously bitter taste that even a heavy dose of liqueur couldn't mask. Swallowing the chocolate, Jefferson could almost feel the world shifting around him, his senses growing distorted as he hurriedly reached into his satchel and pull out a piece of mushroom that could dull the effects of the drug that had spiked the chocolates.

Although the mushroom made Jefferson's own mind rather resilient to the Wonderland drugs, Elizabeth had absolutely no resistance to such drugs, and looking across at her and the almost empty plate, Jefferson realised just how many chocolates Elizabeth had eaten. She was giggling madly, wiping away tears of laughter, her cup of tea sloshing liquid onto her hands and the table-cloth.  
Unfortunately, whenever he tried to offer Elizabeth some of the mushroom, she profusely refused, on the grounds that it wasn't chocolate, which she had declared to be her favourite food, and the only food she would eat for the rest of her life.

In an attempt to stop her from ingesting any more of whatever drug had spiked the chocolates, Jefferson had tried to slide the plate away from her, to little avail. Elizabeth had almost burst into tears at not being able to reach the plate, and the March Hare and Dormouse were no help: they were both off their heads themselves. Jefferson had been forced to surrender the plate of chocolates to Elizabeth, but he made sure to refill her empty tea cup in a hope of her drinking more tea. He could only pray it wasn't quite as laced with drugs as the chocolates.

Keeping one eye on Elizabeth, Jefferson glanced down at his pocket watch. It still read six o'clock, as it had done when he last checked, which he was sure was a while ago. Cursing under his breath at Wonderland's twisted magic that had frazzled his watch, Jefferson looked up at sky, where an amber glow streamed from the setting sun. Perhaps it really was six o'clock. Jefferson had no idea.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of Elizabeth's sudden yell, "change seats!"

She unceremoniously dropped her teaspoon, and it fell with a clatter against her saucer. The March Hare and Dormouse had also discarded their crockery and both moved clockwise to the next seat. The March Hare had moved into Elizabeth's seat, and she had risen to go into Jefferson's seat, though he remained seated.

"Move!" Elizabeth whined, giving him a feeble push as Jefferson shook his head.

"We can't stay any longer," Jefferson said, sounding firmer than he felt as he stared up at her, trying to see beyond the clouded haze in her dark eyes.

"Why not?" Elizabeth demanded, china cracking as she shoved the stack of tea cups and saucers beside Jefferson, before flopping onto the table. Folding her arms tightly Elizabeth obstinately continued, "Well I'm staying."

"No, you're not. We're going to visit your brother, remember?"

"Don't want to see him," Elizabeth retorted, sullenly swinging her legs as far as she could. Momentarily distracting Jefferson, her fingers began to stretch like spiders legs across the tablecloth towards the chocolates.

"I'm sure you don't mean that..."Jefferson said, pausing as he swiftly grabbed Elizabeth's arm just before she could seize a chocolate.

Giving his best reprimanding stare, Jefferson's fingers clamped around her wrist like a vice, though Elizabeth's hand writhed desperately. She glared back at him, and swung a leg into his chest, but Jefferson didn't let go of her. Elizabeth dropped her head, her sulky frown growing miserable as she stared down at the plate of chocolates. Her head slowly lifted, and there was a wicked glint in her eye as Elizabeth's eyes shifted from looking at him to the chocolates.

"Fine, I'll go," she huffed, before adding with a conspiring grin, "only if you let me have one more chocolate?"

"Alright: but just one."

Elizabeth gave a triumphant giggle, tearing her hand from Jefferson's loosened grip. She swiftly grabbed the largest chocolate on the plate and brought it up to her lips, her eyes widening with glee as she popped the chocolate into her mouth. Jefferson watched as Elizabeth purposefully chewing in a leisurely fashion, savouring the chocolate. But as soon as she had finally swallowed, he leapt to his feet.

"Right, we're leaving now."

"But I want to hear the end of the story!" Elizabeth cried, desperately gazing over to where the Dormouse snoozed in his fallen-over teapot.

Her finger jutted out to poke the Dormouse and awaken it, and Jefferson hurriedly recited, "they lived in the bottom on the treacle well where they were learning to draw and drew things that begun with the letter 'M'. Isn't that right, March Hare?"

The March Hare blearily gazed up from staring into his tea cup and mumbled something inaudible.

"I'll take that as a yes. Come along Elizabeth, we wouldn't want to keep your brother waiting."

Elizabeth gave an absent-minded nod and reproachfully got to her feet, swaying slightly. When she tried to walk, one foot caught the other and she stumbled forward, Jefferson catching her by the shoulders to stop her from falling. Elizabeth didn't thank him; she seemed to be in her own world as she floundered along the path beside him, communicating only by her high-pitched giggles.

"A treacle well...you can't have treacle wells, silly Dormouse..."

Elizabeth's grasp on his arm suddenly tightened, and Elizabeth halted, forcing Jefferson to also stop. He turned, and Elizabeth grinned up at him, almost bouncing with excitement.

"Can we name our child Treacle?"

"I suppose so," Jefferson said with a weary sigh.

He knew there was little point disagreeing with Elizabeth, his attention upon the predicament of how to get Elizabeth to eat some of the antidote and quite how he was going to explain her childish behaviour to Victor.

Elizabeth was still murmuring to herself beside him, her laughter growing more hysterical with each step. Jefferson could hardly hear himself think, but was conscious of the weight on his arm lightening. Faltering footsteps that veered off the path sounded, and Jefferson turned in their direction to see that Elizabeth had torn away from him, her choked laughter fading as she began to gag.

_'Oh gods not here, not when we're so close to the looking glass.'_

Catching up with her, Jefferson gently steered Elizabeth to the nearby flowerbeds. He kept his eyes looking up at the sky, unable to block out the sound of her violent retching and rubbing her back until the sound faded away and Elizabeth straightened up. Jefferson's eyes trailed back down to look at her, and he briefly caught sight of her upheaval. To his relief, Elizabeth appeared to have thrown up most of the chocolates, immersed in tea coloured bile. For a moment, neither spoke, Elizabeth's head was bowed, sombrely staring down at the flower bed.

_'Perhaps she's come to her senses.'_

Jefferson's thoughts were short lived, as Elizabeth gave another giggle, her tone as chirpy as it had been moments earlier.

"Oops, silly me," Elizabeth said, taking a clumsy step towards the mirror.

Her knees buckled and Jefferson's hand was on her arm in an instant. Keeping hold of her, Jefferson sat Elizabeth down on one of the smaller toadstools and knelt down in front of her.

"You're not going anywhere for the moment," he said softly, his annoyance at her dissipating as his hands clutched the fragile girl, who wavered in the breeze, her lips trembling despite her wide smirk.

Tenderly stroking a thumb down her cheek, Jefferson took a piece of mushroom from his satchel and slipped into the cusp of his palm, as well as a flask of water.

"Here, you'll feel better after these," he said and handed Elizabeth both items.

Elizabeth obediently nibbled on the mushroom, her face contorting at the taste, before swiftly gulping down the water.

"Do you feel better?" Jefferson asked, his concern etched into each word as he glanced up at her.

Elizabeth nodded spiritedly, the gleam in her eyes returning as her cheeks brightened. His hands holding tightly onto hers, Jefferson helped her to her feet.

"Where would I be without you?" Elizabeth laughed between her hiccups.

Before Jefferson could respond, he felt the touch of her heated skin as her lips surged to his cheek, the reek of bile and narcotics emanating from her.

Gently pulling away, Jefferson lowly replied, "you'd be in black and white and married to a vampire: but not pregnant or intoxicated by drugs. "

Elizabeth gave another raucous laugh, teasingly nudging him. Keeping a firm hold of her, he led Elizabeth back through the looking glass and to the steel door of the land without colour.

As with their other two visits to her home, Elizabeth faded back into black and white, but to Jefferson's worry, her bubbly mindset remained despite the change in realm. Elizabeth was as giddy as ever whilst they cut through the woodland, strikingly dark in comparison to the brightness of Wonderland, to the castle.

Contrary to her attitude at the tea party, Elizabeth grew elated at the prospect of seeing her brother, and dashed up to the castle. Her feet upturned the gravel, hair billowing in the wind like dark streamers. Reaching the porch first, Elizabeth went on tiptoe and rang the bell, watching it clang. Soon enough, the door opened, and before Victor could even greet them, Elizabeth had embraced him.

"What have I done to deserve this?" Victor said, though his smile was fond as a beaming Elizabeth drew away from him and he studied her. "I can't quite believe you're at the end of your first trimester already."

"Me neither!" Elizabeth laughed, stepping into the castle, her eyes darting around the hallway. "Do you know where we've just been Victor? Wonderland! It's so colourful there, and the flowers can talk, oh, and there's a grinning cat!"

"Sounds like you enjoyed yourself."

Elizabeth nodded and added in a very matter of fact voice, "you'd hate it there."

Victor smiled to himself at that, but shot Jefferson a questioning look whilst Elizabeth was distracted by the family portrait.

"How about you go through to the laboratory Elizabeth? I just need to talk to Victor for a moment."

Elizabeth nodded at Jefferson's request and bound down the steps to the laboratory. Once the door clicked shut behind her, Victor turned to him.

"Well, she certainly seems to be a good mood. Please don't tell me you two have just-"

"No, like Elizabeth said, we were in Wonderland. You see, we went to a tea party, except the food and drinks may have been spiked. With drugs... But don't worry, because Elizabeth brought most of it back up, and I gave her this mushroom that counters the effects: at worst, she'll be in that mood until tomorrow..." Jefferson rambled, trailing away as he caught the look in Victor's eye.

"At the worst?" Victor said, his voice deadly quiet, "it doesn't matter if she's been sick or not, the drugs are still in her bloodstream: and in your child's!"

Victor sighed, shaking his head in disbelief, "you allowed my sister, and your unborn child, to ingest drugs? Drugs? Are you out of your mind?"

His voice grew louder, and Victor stepped closer, the dangerous glint in his eye making Jefferson fear he may well be eviscerated.

"Look I didn't realise until she'd eaten a whole bloody plate!" He protested, but Victor just scoffed.

"Jesus wept."

With that, he stormed off in down to the laboratory, Jefferson following behind. Despite her rather chaotic mood, Elizabeth hadn't completely obliterated the laboratory: instead she was perched on the steel table that she always lay on. She swung her feet, grinning at the sight of them before sliding her legs onto the table.

"We're going to call the baby Treacle!" Elizabeth announced exuberantly to Victor.

"Elizabeth, we are not calling our child Treacle," Jefferson said, reaching out to take her hand.

Elizabeth snatched her hand away and folded her arms with a sullen pout, "but you promised!"

"Would you like to be called Treacle?" Victor asked as he carefully lifting the hem of Elizabeth's dress.

"Yes!" Elizabeth looked back across at Jefferson, her eyes growing wide and pleading, "have you got anymore chocolate?"

"No, and I think you've had enough," Jefferson couldn't stand her hurt expression, but he knew Elizabeth was hardly herself: whatever magical drug had been inside the chocolate had made her become rather child-like.

Looking her in eye only worsened his guilt, so Jefferson let his gaze go down to what had once been Elizabeth's abdomen: and was now a huge, taut balloon of skin. Jefferson knew very little about pregnancy, but seeing her properly, yet again Jefferson dubiously wondered how much bigger Elizabeth could possibly get. Victor also seemed to be concerned, he had retrieved several papers from a file and was studying them intently, occasionally glancing back at Elizabeth's swollen stomach.

"I'm getting big, aren't I?" Elizabeth said excitedly, giggling at the touch of the round, metallic object that Victor had pressed to her stomach.

Jefferson studied the device with interest: it was unlike anything that he had come across before. The other end appeared to have two ear pieces which Victor had placed inside his ears, and was slowly moving the rounded edge along Elizabeth's stomach, ignoring her protests betweens giggles.

Pausing, Victor went back to reading the articles, his brow furrowing as he placed the ear pieces back in his ears, listening to what Jefferson realised was the child's heartbeat.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Jefferson demanded, unable to bear the strained silence and Victor's concerned expression.

Victor removed the ear pieces and looked up at them, his dark eyes graver than ever.

"The reason why you're so big for only three months Elizabeth is because there are two heartbeats," he said softly, looking at them both, awaiting their reactions.

Jefferson stared at him, Rumplestiltskin's words hitting him. The imp had never specified that their son and daughter was the same child. Elizabeth also remained quiet for a moment, breaking the silence with a sudden gasp.

"We can call them Treacle and Toffee!"


	34. Chapter 34

Waking up before dawn had never been an easy task for Jefferson. He had always preferred to stay awake long into the night, and before he'd been with Elizabeth, long into the early hours of the morning. For the past few months he had been sleeping well, content with the knowledge that Elizabeth lay beside him.

But he had slept fitfully that night: persuading Elizabeth to actually go to sleep had been hard enough. Every time that he had almost drifted to sleep, Jefferson was reminded of Victor's words. There were two heartbeats, and two children. Despite Elizabeth's calmness at the prospect, Jefferson couldn't fathom how they were going to look after one child, let alone two.

Not that Elizabeth had any idea. She was still too exultant from the drugs to fully understand. Her muffled breath against the pillow was the only noise in the semi darkness of their bedroom, the curled up frame cocooned in blankets that Jefferson had draped over her to keep out the wintry chill.

Staring across at the curtains, where a gradually brightening glow of light crept beneath the fabric, Jefferson decided that he might as well do something productive with dawn rapidly approaching. Taking care not to disturb Elizabeth, who was slumbering peacefully, Jefferson hauled himself from the warmth of the covers.

His bones ached with lethargy as Jefferson crossed the room to the curtains. With every creak of the floorboards beneath his feet, Jefferson warily glanced over at Elizabeth. The last thing he needed was to awake her and release the wrath of a woman who was undoubtedly exhausted, coming off a drug high and pregnant with twins. But Elizabeth had barely stirred, save shifting slightly and shrugging off the topmost blanket.

Jefferson reached the curtains and eased back the dense fabric by a fraction, the steel rungs scraping on the pole. Through the gap he had created Jefferson could see out into their back garden through a veil of condensation on the window.

The first frost tipped the blades of glass like shards of glass and the weak sunlight was not strong enough to melt it away. Skeletal branches hung over the fences, and Jefferson could just see the flecks of burnt orange leaves in the soil. A pale yellow hue from the sun had begun to emerge across the skyline, breaking through the mass of still grey clouds. Listening to the faint warble of a lone bird, Jefferson traced a finger down the condensation, the icy droplets sending a chill down his spine. He watched the rays of sun disperse amongst the clouds, casting narrow beams of light onto the white flecked fields.

A low groan sounded and Jefferson whirled around to find Elizabeth stretching, her figure twisting amongst the sheets. He knew that she'd be awaking soon, and just how awful she would feel as Wonderland's drugs took their toll. Looking back at the sun, Jefferson estimated dawn would be in little over half an hour, and Rumplestiltskin would be expecting him.

As silently as he could muster, Jefferson got his clothes from the wardrobe and made for the door. He grabbed onto the end of the bed as his foot caught on a discarded blanket in his haste. Jefferson caught his breath, his heart having leapt into his throat. He slipped from the room and went downstairs, doing up a button of his shirt with each step of the staircase.

Although the kettle had given a piercing whistle whilst boiling on the lit stove, there had been no sound of movement from upstairs to suggest Elizabeth had been woken. Taking the freshly buttered toast in one hand, Jefferson took the tray with a teapot and two mugs of steaming tea n his other hand. He navigated the winding staircase with care, all too wary of spilling boiling water onto his skin. Shifting the plate onto the tray, Jefferson leant against the doorframe before lightly knocking the knuckles of his free hand against the door. There was a mumble, which Jefferson took to mean Elizabeth was awake, so he entered the bedroom.

He set the tea tray down on the nearest bedside cabinet and went back to the curtains, pulling them apart. A meagre amount of sunlight lit up the room, but Elizabeth still moaned and buried herself back into the mass of covers, burying her head beneath her pillow. The downed mattress sank as Jefferson dropped onto it, prising the covers from Elizabeth's fingers and pulling them back.

"Get off!" Elizabeth cried; her voice muffled into the pillow.

She rolled over and gave him a disgruntled glare from beneath her untamed hair that framed her face in jagged knots.

"It's five in the morning, sleepyhead," Jefferson teased, with an exuberant grin, but Elizabeth remained unimpressed, "but I did make you breakfast. Don't worry, it's not chocolate."

"I don't ever want to see another chocolate in my life," Elizabeth said, shielding her eyes from the sun's glare as she sat up and looked over his shoulder to the tray of breakfast things.

She caught sight of the cups of tea and buttered toast, giving another groan, resting a hand on her stomach.

"I'm not hungry: I want to be sick."

"You've already thrown up the chocolates, so there's nothing in your stomach. You'll feel better once you've eaten," Jefferson reached over to the tea tray and put the plate of toast down between them.

Elizabeth looked down at the golden brown toast, a pained look crossing her face. Sighing, she shook her head and curled up her knees.

"Not even one slice?" Jefferson said, parting her curtain of matted hair so that he could see her face, "even if you want anything, the babies must be hungry. It isn't fair on them."

"Babies?" Elizabeth mumbled, though there was a sudden edge of alertness to her voice.

She turned to face him, her dark eyes searching his features for any hint of humour. But there was none, and Elizabeth stared at him.

"Toffee and treacle, remember?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly as the recollection hit her.

I can't believe that my virtuous brother has seen me intoxicated...and wanting to call my children toffee and treacle!"

With a laugh, Jefferson lifted his tea cup from the tray and held the warm cup in the palm of his hands before taking a sip. Smiling despite herself, Elizabeth gave the small pile of toast another longing look. Her stomach gave an approving grumble and Elizabeth reached for the topmost slice.

Finishing his tea, Jefferson set the cup down on the tray and briefly kissed Elizabeth's cheek.

"I've got to go, it won't do to keep Rumplestiltskin waiting," fastening his loose cravat, Jefferson made to rise from the bed.

There was the crunch of Elizabeth biting into the crust of the toast, and hand caught his arm, pulling him back down towards her.

Elizabeth hurriedly swallowed, pinning him to the spot with an unimpressed glare, "you're going without me?

"You need to rest," Jefferson countered, freeing his arm and placing his hand on her bare shoulder. His fingers brushed the lace strap of her nightdress as he continued, "doctor's orders. Victor only allowed me to bring you here if you stayed at home for the day and rested. Those drugs will leave you feeling rather hazy for a few hours; you may as well sleep rather than be dashing from one land to another."

"Can't you take the day off too?"

"Rumplestiltskin won't accept my excuses- as long as I can steal, he'll make me work. But I'm sure he can let you off. I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise. Just try and get some sleep, and have plenty to drink."

"Yes, doctor," Elizabeth smirked, shifting upright and pressing her crumb encrusted lips to his.

She withdrew with a sad smile, still almost at eye level. Her hand reached out and her fingers rested upon his cheek, fondly tracing along his jawline.

"Be careful, okay?" her words were hardly at demand, but a plea, yet there was a jovial gleam to her eyes as Elizabeth added, "You don't have me to watch your back."

"You don't have to worry about me: I can look after myself," Jefferson tried to smile back but there was heaviness inside of him and he suddenly felt rather despondent at the thought of having to portal jump without her.

He returned her kiss, retreating before the ache in his chest could grow too strong at the sight of her: tangled waves of dark hair spiralling down her shoulders, red silk covering her bare skin, breadcrumbs stuck to the edge of her lips. Jefferson longed to say goodbye but the words caught in his throat, however Elizabeth gave an understanding nod before rather pointedly yawning and sitting back down. Taking his cue to leave, Jefferson went downstairs and gathered his hat and winter coat before stepping out into the November morning.

* * *

Just as he'd promised Elizabeth, Jefferson finished his day's work as swiftly as he could. However, Rumplestiltskin's request seemed to be more arduous than ever and somehow portal jumping alone felt all too lonely on his own. Jefferson returned to Rumplestiltskin's castle just as the hint of a midday sun had faded away and presented him with the items and information that he'd managed to gleam. Just as Jefferson had been stuffing the last of his hard earned straw into his satchel, his employer had sprung one last task upon him: to steal a bag of fairy dust. It was a fairly easy task, as the fairies always had far more than they could possibly need, but having to travel through the enchanted forest when he could have been with Elizabeth irked Jefferson.

Having explored much of the enchanted forest, Jefferson knew of most of the shortcuts through the various forests and between the borders of each kingdom. Arriving at the mines, Jefferson lingered in the shadows of the trees, watching as the dwarves loaded bags of fairy dust onto carts for the fairies to collect. Even the dwarves knew just how precious the fairy dust was, or perhaps the head fairy had terrified them into submission. Jefferson certainly knew just what the Blue fairy could be like if you crossed her path.

Keeping this in mind, as well as the fact that after his previous stealing of several bags, the dwarf security had been tightened, Jefferson decided to do something he'd never done in his career as a thief.

Ask for something.

Striding out from the woods as though he had only just ventured off the path, Jefferson approached the dwarf with the aptly named 'boss' axe.

"Excuse me sir?"

The dwarf turned to him, contemptuously gazing up at the tall figure whose face was masked by a top hat.

"You're the one who stole fairy dust off us last time, aren't you?"

Realising he needed to change his tact; Jefferson took off his hat and looked the dwarf straight in the eye.

"Yes. And I could do with another bag-"

"You really think that's going to work?" the dwarf asked, smirking contemptuously.

The other dwarfs had stopped their work and gathered around, though the boss didn't reprimand them.

"It's not for me: it's for the woman I love," reaching into his coat pocket, Jefferson retrieved the rose gold band, embedded with onyx stones that he had purchased from one of the far off markets that he had been to in earlier that day, "I'm going to propose to her, and I wish to encase fairy dust within the stones of the ring."

The congregated dwarves all looked at one another, awaiting their boss' reaction. A smirk crossed the dwarf's face.

"Dwarves don't have emotions: least of all love. We mine. It doesn't matter in the slightest to us if you want this fairy dust for your dearly beloved or not. And at any rate, you're a thief- and we don't deal with thieves."

"But I need it," Jefferson said, desperation gnawing inside of him at the thought of Rumplestiltskin's reaction if he returned empty handed. With an exasperated sigh, Jefferson uttered the word he hadn't used in years, "please?"

"No. Now leave, I've been lenient enough. You don't want the blue fairy to see you skulking around here, do you?" The dwarf asked, his fellow kin silently watching the conversation unfold.

"Fine," Jefferson scowled, flipping his top hat onto his heat with a flourish and turning to leave.

He stormed past the cart of fairy dust, his gaze briefly drifting across to the sacks.

'_I'm so close to them,_' he seethed, '_if only I could just-_'

"Wait! Wait, please!" A soft, tinkling voice called.

Jefferson glanced over his shoulder to see one of the fairies fluttering towards him, her miniature pink wings beating as fast as a hummingbird. She was tiny in flight but the fairy slowed as she landed, growing in size, though she was still considerably smaller than him.

"What?" Jefferson snapped, feeling a twinge of regret as the young fairy flinched slightly.

"I-I, I just want to help you. Hopefully one day I might become a fairy godmother, and what better way to begin by helping people?"

Jefferson frowned at her, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, "why would you help me? Don't you know who I am?"

"Oh yes!" The fairy nodded her head vigorously, "the blue fairy warned us about a thief with a top hat. But everyone deserves a second chance, and I think putting fairy dust in your beloved's engagement ring is very sweet. Plus, there's plenty of fairy dust to go around, it should be used for good by others."

As she spoke, the fairy reached into the folds of her dress and produced a small bag of fairy dust. Her fingers fumbled with the material of her dress and a few flecks of dust scattered onto the ground. The fairy gave an apologetic smile before thrusting the bag into his hands.

"I know it doesn't look like much, but there's more there than you think...if I took too much the others would notice..."

Jefferson examined the bag and slipped into his satchel.

"Thank you," he said genuinely, and the fairy beamed with a blush.

"It's okay," she said, already shrinking back into her fairy size, "I just hope she says yes."

Her wings beating furiously, the fairy begin to fly back to the entrance of the mines.

"Hey, wait: I didn't catch your name," Jefferson called after her.

The fairy paused and hovered by him, "I'm Nova."

"Jefferson. Although I'd prefer it if you didn't mention that to your superior."

"I won't," Nova said, "good luck with your proposal, Jefferson."

Jefferson tipped his hat to her and watched as the flurry of pink vanished off to the mines before slipping back into the secrecy of the woods.

Once he'd walked far enough away from the dwarf mines, Jefferson found a secluded trail from the main path and wandered down it until he reached a small clearing. Sitting on a wooden log, Jefferson took out the ring and fairy dust. He'd never done an enchantment that directly involved fairy dust, but had a vague idea of how to encase the magic within the colourful slates of stone.

Muttering an incantation under his breath, Jefferson kept his eyes locked onto the onyx stones as they melted. Dipping two fingertips into the bag of fairy dust, Jefferson purposefully sprinkled a few flecks of fairy dust into each stone and did the reverse spell before the stone could set hard. The stones reformed, the rainbow colours glinting in the sunlight, defined even more by the fairy dust. Satisfied with the ring, Jefferson put it back into his pocket before continuing on his way back to the castle.

In the harsh haze from the bleak November sky, the woodlands looked more barren than ever. Remains of the morning's frost crunched beneath Jefferson's shoes as he traipsed up to Rumplestiltskin's castle, his satchel swinging against his side with each step. A cool breeze rippled through the skeletal branches, biting at Jefferson's skin. He tugged his hat further down his head and tucked his hands into his coat pockets.

The roaring fire in the dark one's majestic fireplace was a rather welcome sight as Jefferson entered the castle for the second time that day. A blast of warmth hit Jefferson as he stepped into the hallway and he unbuttoned his coat.

Intending to leave as soon as he could, Jefferson retrieved the bag of fairy dust from his satchel and placing it down on the closest end of the dining table. At the other end of the table were two chairs positioned by the fire. From behind these chairs came the sound of Regina's voice:

"Back so soon?"

"It's only fairy dust, it's not exactly that difficult," Jefferson retorted, drumming his fingers on the edge of table as he scanned the room for any sign of his business partner, "where's Rumplestiltskin?"

"Why do you want to know?" Regina said, remaining in her seat by the fire, her outstretched feet just visible.

"So that I can give him this fairy dust and go."

"Oh that's right," Regina drawled, and Jefferson could envisage the smirk on her face as she spoke, "you'll want to get back to Elizabeth. I see she's not with you today."

There was the sound of a large book closing, and the tap of heels as Regina's legs swung onto the floor. Regina rose from her seat and strutted over to him.

"I'll tell where Rumplestiltskin is if you tell me why Elizabeth isn't here too."

"She's ill," Jefferson said sharply.

"Ill?" Regina repeated, her eyes gleaming malevolently as she savoured the syllable, "she's still got another three months to go yet."

"She's pregnant with twins: double the morning sickness. She didn't look that well this morning so I told her to stay at home and rest," Jefferson explained, "now where is Rumplestiltskin?"

"Right here dearie."

Turning, he saw that Rumplestiltskin was indeed stood behind him, the bag of fairy dust in one scaled hand.

"It's a little on the small side, but it'll do," the imp announced, "I'll see you the same time tomorrow then Jefferson, hopefully with your assistant?"

"Indeed you shall," Jefferson lifted his hat, inclining his head to Rumplestiltskin and very briefly to Regina before venturing back out into the cold.

* * *

Darkening clouds had begun to engulf the grey sky as he hurried through the forest. The first few rain droplets splattered onto Jefferson's coat, and he quickened his pace as the rain steadily grew heavier. Reaching the place that he'd been thinking of all day, Jefferson climbed the slope to the place he could now truly call a home.

Jefferson closed the front door behind him, pushing back the icy swirl of wind that tried to sweep in. The warmth of the house compared to the outside made it all the more welcoming, along with the aroma of tea that lingered in the air, but there were no suggestions of movement. Not wishing to disturb Elizabeth, Jefferson hung up his wet clothes before opening the door to the kitchen.

Elizabeth was sat at the rounded dining table with various papers and a notebook spread across the surface, her cup of tea acting as a paper weight and spilling a ring onto the sheets. Her ink pen was held between her fingers, poised to write. But Elizabeth was frowning, her concentration focused upon her writing.

"I'm back."

Elizabeth's head jerked up as she realised that there was someone in the doorway. Her initially startled look grew relaxed as she smiled at the sight of him. Getting up from the chair, Elizabeth went to him, an animated look upon her face as she clasped his hands. Before Jefferson had a chance to even say hello, Elizabeth announced:

"I've got something I want to show you!"

Keeping hold of her hands, Jefferson followed Elizabeth back out into the hallway and upstairs. As Elizabeth led him deeper into the mansion, Jefferson began to wonder just what she wanted to show him. They were now on the third floor, a floor Jefferson had never bothered with. Until Elizabeth had moved in, he'd hardly spent any time in the house, and had never ventured any further than the second floor.

The floorboards on the topmost floor were lined with a film of dust, and the wallpaper lining was peeling in several places. Leading Jefferson down the abandoned hallway, Elizabeth grasped the one door handle that wasn't grey with dust and the door slowly creaked open.

Despite having been abandoned along with the rest of the third floor for several years, the room still appeared to be in fairy good condition. The sunlight from the large window had kept out mould from forming, and although the walls had discoloured slightly and the floorboards were covered by a carpet of cobwebs, the room wasn't quite as neglected as the hallway. But Jefferson still glanced sceptically around the room, unsure as to what Elizabeth had to show him.

Elizabeth beamed as she gestured to the room, "I know it needs a little work...and we'd have to move our bedroom into one of the other rooms to be nearby, but don't you think that this room would be perfect as a nursery?"

Seeing his incredulous look, Elizabeth continued earnestly, "think about it: the room's spacious enough for two children, you've got the big bay window overlooking the garden, you could have the two cots in the middle of the room, with mobiles hanging down from those holes in a ceiling, there's plenty of space for a small wardrobe and wooden boxes to store toys..."

Elizabeth gave a wistful sigh as she gazed around the room. The image that she painted in both of their minds was a picturesque one, but compared to what was before them, Jefferson couldn't quite see it as ever being more than a dream.

"I don't know if it'd work-"

"If we dusted this place and repainted the walls, it'd look much better!" Elizabeth interrupted, her relentless optimism at the idea making it difficult for him to remain unconvinced.

"You really have given this a lot of thought," Jefferson said at last, jokily adding, "what colour do you want the walls?"

"Orange," Elizabeth said without a moment's hesitation, "seeing as though our children are foretold to be different genders, it doesn't seem fair to paint the walls pink or blue. I like orange: it's nice and bright, and reminds me of sunset."

They were close enough to the roof now that the rattling of raindrops could be heard and the window opposite them was stained with streaks of rain.

"I suppose the weather's too bad for the market to be open."

"We don't need go out to get paint," Jefferson said, and Elizabeth shook her head at his implications.

"How many times do I have to tell you: you can't just use magic whenever you feel like it!"

"It's not like last time when I used it to put the kettle on the stove, which I admit may have been a little bit pointless. Don't you want to paint the room?" Jefferson asked.

"I didn't mean straight away."

"We might as well, it's too bad to go out," pressed Jefferson, flicking his wrist as Elizabeth gave a nod of agreement and two pots of orange paint landing with a thud on the floorboards, "I'll go and grab some cleaning things and paint brushes."

* * *

Dragging the mop across another row of floorboards, Jefferson let out a loud sigh. He lifted his eyes from staring at the half clean, half dusty floor to where Elizabeth sat, cleaning the windowsill across the room. She had her back to him, though Jefferson wasn't sure if she hadn't heard him, or was ignoring his complaints about doing housework.

"You know what we need?" Jefferson said, discarding the mop into the bucket, "one of those machines that I saw them in another land. They make this loud whirring noise and you move them over a surface and all the dust vanishes. Only thing is that they need something called 'electricity', which this realm hasn't discovered yet."

Elizabeth shifted from her position to face him, "as marvellous as that sounds, you've almost finished anyway."

She motioned to the sparse, but now clean, floorboards that covered most of the room, "you've only got that bit where you're stood left. Then all we can paint the walls."

Begrudgingly, Jefferson took the mop back out of the water and got back to work. He soon finished cleaning the last of the floorboards, Elizabeth wiping off the last of the cobwebs from the corners of the window panes. A satisfied look crossed her face as she glanced around the room that now looked inhabitable. The gleaming floor and windows only highlighted how yellowed the walls were, but Elizabeth grinned at him as she pulled back the lid of one of the paint pots.

"Now for the fun part."

Leaving his mop and bucket in the hallway, Jefferson picked up his paint brush and dipped it onto the orange paint.

"Are we painting all the walls?"

"Not unless you want to give our children psychedelic nightmares," Elizabeth laughed, dipping the tip of her paint brush into the tin, "I was thinking of just painting the two longer walls, and having the walls with the window and door white."

"Sounds good to me," Jefferson swept his brush into the paint and coated the bristles in the tangerine substance. He glanced across at Elizabeth, her eyes also flickering to his.

"Do you want do the honours?"

"Together," Elizabeth said and they both ran their brushes along the wall, masking the off white tinge with a thick layer of orange.

They quickly settled in a pattern, with Elizabeth painting the middle width of the wall that could be easily reached, whilst Jefferson used a wooden stepladder he'd found to paint the topmost area. As they painted, the sweep of brushes against the wall growing rhythmic, Jefferson filled Elizabeth in his day, assuring her that he only visited lands they'd already travelled and omitting Regina's questioning and his trip to the mines.

With one last stroke along the topmost edge of the wall, Jefferson clambered down the step ladder, his paintbrush held loosely in his hand. Looking down to check the gap from the final step to the floor, Jefferson could hide his grin at the sight of Elizabeth.

"What?" She asked, pausing her painting at the sound of his muffled laughter.

"You got something on your nose."

Elizabeth put a hand to her face and placed a finger on the tip of her nose. When she removed it, the spot of paint transferred onto her finger.

"I wonder how that got there?" She mused dryly, and Jefferson realised which way he'd been holding his paintbrush.

Before he could apologise, Elizabeth had teasingly flicked her own paintbrush at him, flecks of paint flying through the air.

"This was my best cravat!" Jefferson protested, staring down at the orange flecks that had landed on him.

"I didn't mean to! You should have taken it off before we started though."

"I'll find a way of getting it out," Jefferson said, though he did unwind the material from around his neck and stuff it into his back pocket.

Gathering a fresh stroke of paint onto his brush, Jefferson aimed his brush towards Elizabeth. The paint missed the tip of her head by a fraction but she whipped around, and pointed a finger at him.

"Stop flicking paint at me! We've been painting for at least an hour now and we still have the other wall to do, plus the remaining two that need to be painted white."

Her shoulders slackened as Elizabeth gave a slight yawn, exhaustion lining her face.

"You can take a break if you want, and I'll finish this wall. We can always leave the others for another day?" Jefferson offered, but Elizabeth shook her head.

"No, it's fine; I can help you finish this wall."

Elizabeth had painted the majority of the wall, leaving a small patch that ran above the skirting board.

"I'll finish this patch on the right, and you could do along the bottom?"

Jefferson knelt down onto the floorboards and swept his brush along the unpainted length of the wall, Elizabeth softly humming as she painted the right end of the wall. He quickly finished in the left corner and Jefferson looked over his shoulder to see that Elizabeth was also coming to her final stroke of paint. The outline of the small box in his pocket had been nestled into him all whilst he painted, and Jefferson decided that it was now or never.

Slowly setting his paintbrush down on the lid of the almost empty paint pot, Jefferson turned his body so that he was kneeling towards Elizabeth. Clearing his throat, Jefferson slid the box out from his pocket and clutching it in his trembling fingers.

"Yes?" Elizabeth said, glancing briefly over at him, suddenly turning around as she caught sight of what was in his hands.

Elizabeth gaped at him, her grip on the paintbrush loosening slightly.

"I...Elizabeth-" Jefferson began hoarsely, the words he'd been mulling over vanishing. He stared up at her face that was an unreadable mix of emotions, before taking a deep breath and beginning again.

"Elizabeth, I don't really know quite what to say, or at least, I don't know what I can say that can prove just how I feel. But what I do know is that being with you isn't like being with anybody else and no matter what, I'll always choose you. Even over portal jumping. I don't want to have to imagine a day without you. So I suppose what I'm trying to say is..."

Jefferson trailed away as his shaking voice came close to breaking. Her eyes glistening with tears, Elizabeth approached him.

"Will you marry me?" She finished, her own voice laced with emotion. Her face was lit up with joy, and Jefferson knew his expression mirrored hers, a smile spreading at the movement of Elizabeth's lips.

"Yes."

Jefferson rose from his position on the floor and carefully removed the shining band from its velvet casing. The ring slipped onto Elizabeth's outstretched finger with ease, shards of colour glittering from the onyx stones. Keeping the hand that now wore the engagement ring placed on his, Elizabeth reached to her neck and lifted out her necklace.

The pendant flickered with colour, caught by the rays of sunlight that streamed through the clear windows. Outside, the rain had almost fully faded, mixing with the sunshine to form a faint rainbow that wore away into the horizon.

* * *

**A/N: Just wanted to say a quick thank you as this week I discovered that this story has reached over 10,000 reads (before this chapter was uploaded the count was at 10,173) **

**Wow. I realise this may not be a huge amount on this website, but for me that is simply incredible and I am honestly astounded by just how many people have read this over what isn't quite seven months. So thank you for all of the reviews, favourites and follows that accompany these reads that have been flooding my inbox- knowing there are people out there reading this really makes my day.**

**Also, a little side note here: Nova does feature in this chapter, and although her story in OUAT is about nine or ten years after this, I personally think that the fairies have a longer life span than humans. Did any get the 'superior' pun? I'm quite proud of that one. **


	35. Chapter 35

The swirl of magic that had appeared in the middle of the woods slowly began to fade, causing the final few fallen leaves to rustle in its wake. The haze cleared, to reveal a flushed Jefferson, Elizabeth in tow. They were both breathing heavily as they caught their breath, creating a thin veil of mist in the air before them.

"That was close," Elizabeth muttered, a hand gingerly pressed to her pronounced abdomen.

"Too close: we need to be more careful," Jefferson said, "I'd forgotten that you can't quite run as fast as you used to."

"Well don't use me as the distraction next time!" Despite herself, Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh at his sheepish expression. She glanced down at the satchel. "You did get the jewel, didn't you?"

"Of course I did- we're not the best portal jumpers in all the realms for nothing," Jefferson lifted up the top of his satchel and reached inside. A green jewel momentarily flashed between his fingers before slipping back into the depths of the bag.

"I thought that you said that with magic beans being so scarce, we are the only portal jumpers?" Elizabeth teased, folding her arms and fixing him with a questioning stare.

"True," Jefferson conceded as another icy gust of wind swept through the woodland. Even in his thick coat and cravat, Jefferson felt a shiver run down his spine.

The grey clouds that consumed the sky seemed to threaten the first snow of the winter, the stark landscape only making the woodland's seem colder, its chill seeping into him. Elizabeth's pale hands rubbed against her arms in an attempt to warm up, her emerald coat buttoned up tightly, though the nape of her neck remained exposed. Jefferson unwound his cravat and made to wrap the material around Elizabeth's neck, but she shrugged it off.

"If you take that off, you'll catch a chill," Elizabeth lifted the hood of her coat, its furry edge framing her face, "your coat doesn't have a hood, so you need something around your neck. Let's just take these things to Rumplestiltskin and then we can warm up by the fire at home."

Her fingers brushed against his, almost numb against his warm skin, as she took his hand. The woodland path was firmly solidified with trodden-down frost and berries, the leaves crackling beneath their feet as they walked. Taking the most direct route to the Rumplestiltskin's castle, Jefferson led Elizabeth along the river, the pellucid waters rippling slightly in the harsh breeze, ice beginning to form by the bank. Across the water was what had been King Leopold's castle, but now belonged to Regina. The metallic turrets rose from the ground like knives, dominating the endless grey landscape.

Following the path that veered back into the woods, they clambered up the slope, Rumplestiltskin's castle growing visible between the bare branches of the trees that loomed overhead. Spurred on by the torrent of wind that whipped against their clothes, Jefferson and Elizabeth soon reached the castle.

It looked as barren as the rest of the woodland. The few lingering roses had browned, leaving only thorny stems that wound around the castle's walls like ivy, the windows dark between slabs of stone. To any unsuspecting villager, the castle looked abandoned, though almost all knew of who resided there: and that was enough to stop them from venturing inside.

As they made their way through the tangle of decrepit plants that scattered the path to the castle, Jefferson caught sight of the back of a carriage, hidden by the castle's walls, though the kingdom's crest was just visible. He mentally cursed at the prospect of seeing Regina. They had only seen her briefly over the past few weeks, but Regina had been particularly vindictive towards Elizabeth, especially once she'd spotted the engagement ring.

Elizabeth seemed not to have noticed the carriage, hurrying up the stone steps, Jefferson a few paces behind. He heaved open the wooden doors of the castle and they stepped inside. A dying fire sparked in the fireplace across the hall, the only proper source of light in the dimly lit room, the curtains drawn across the windows. It seemed to have been burning for a while, the room pleasantly warm compared to outdoors. But apart from the crackling of the fire, the room lay silent. In the far corner was Rumplestiltskin's spinning wheel, strands of gold dangling on its frame.

The door to the potions room suddenly swung open, light spilling from the doorway as well as the sound of voices. Jefferson felt Elizabeth bristle slightly at Regina's voice, though it was Rumplestiltskin who entered into the hallway.

His face fell at the sight of them, the maniacal gleam fading.

"I was rather hoping you'd be some hapless villager who'd strayed in," Rumplestiltskin said, "I could do with some more frogs."

The imp smirked and Jefferson laughed wryly, although Elizabeth seemed rather startled by Rumplestiltskin's sense of humour.

"As requested," Jefferson said, opening his satchel once again, "one jewel." He set it down on the table for Rumplestiltskin to observe.

"Very good," Rumplestiltskin lifted up the gem and held it up to the faint light before giving a satisfied nod, "it wasn't too much trouble to procure?"

"Nothing that we couldn't handle," Elizabeth said.

"Of course not," A knowing grin crept across Rumplestiltskin's scaled features and he snapped his fingers. Coils of gold appeared, which the imp handed to Jefferson. "Make sure to give some to your brother in law, won't you?"

"He's not my brother in law yet," Jefferson muttered darkly, scowling as he tucked the gold into his satchel, "Victor has no idea that we're engaged- that's going to be one fun conversation."

"Speaking of conversations: I need to speak to you about something, Rumplestilstkin," Elizabeth announced, causing Jefferson to give her a questioning glance, though she averted her gaze to look across the table at the imp.

"Of course," Rumplestiltskin motioned dismissively towards Jefferson, "you wouldn't mind waiting in the potions room a moment?"

"No, that's fine," Jefferson said, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could to mask his confusion, Elizabeth remaining silent beside him.

Turning his back on them, Jefferson strode into the potions room, the door shutting, with a little more force than he'd intended, behind him. His eyes flitted around the room, falling on the figure who sat opposite him on the bench: Regina. Dressed from head to toe in black, she would have given the perfect impression of a woman mourning the death of her husband, save the cold smirk that spread across her red lips.

"Hello Jefferson."

"Aren't you too busy tyrannously bringing a kingdom to its knees to be here?" Jefferson remarked, not moving from his position against the door.

Regina laughed at that, a sound too malicious to be humorous. She slowly rose from her seat, her hand knocking the glass vial that had been on the bench. The vial toppled over the edge, its golden contents slowly trickling out. But before the vial could hit the floor, it froze in mid-air before rising and dropping back into place as though held by an invisible hand.

"You're still good at magic I see," Regina said, stepping towards him. "Not that your fiancée approves of it," she added, with a somewhat casual air.

Jefferson ignored her, "I didn't fancy having to go steal you a new vial."

He kept his eyes locked on her, watching her every movement with distrust. Something inside of Jefferson told him to slip a hand behind his back and open the potions door, evade Regina whilst he still had the chance. Yet Jefferson stood his ground, watching as she drew closer, somehow unable to move.

"I must admit, I am surprised that you'd decide to get married and vow yourself to one woman," Regina said, "though I suppose your hands are tied, as it is rather frowned upon to bear bastards, no matter what realm you're in."

"Shut up," Jefferson hissed, though Regina's smirk only grew at his response.

She was close enough to him now for her hand to reach out, her fingers clasping his arm with an iron grip.

"I know you don't love her, not truly. If you did, why would be you staring at me?" Regina raised an eyebrow and as if to prove her point, she breathed deeply, her chest heaving beneath an excruciatingly tight corset. Regina leant into him, her body against his, closing the little space between them. Her other hand had slipped around his waist, holding him in place against the wall.

Sliding the hand that was on his arm upwards, Regina reached up to cup his jaw, her crimson fingernails digging into his skin, forcing him to gaze down at her.

"Admit it," Regina breathed, "it was always me that you wanted. Not her. I know that a man like you is far better suited to be a king than a thief…"

Jefferson couldn't even reply: Regina's lips were already on his, pressed to him with such force that he felt every ounce of his strength being crushed like the air in his lungs, rendering him immobile. Her sharp fingernails trailed down his neck, hands sliding down his chest, her arms constantly wound around his body,

"Jefferson?" Elizabeth's voice sent a startled wave through him, breaking past the lack of air that had shut down his senses. Regina's hands were straying treacherously lower, the sultry whispers that escaped her lips attempting to drown out the sound of Elizabeth's voice, growing louder…

There was nothing that he could do except count down the seconds to his pulsating heartbeat, awaiting the inevitable. The potions door beside them swung open, the footsteps coming to a halt. He heard Elizabeth's gentle sigh, and on the other side of the door, he could imagine her gazing around the seemingly empty room, wondering where he was.

As the door began to close, Regina let out a moan, attracting Elizabeth's attention. Retracting her lips, Regina released her arms and stepped away, fiddling with the top of her corset before glancing up at Elizabeth, then Jefferson.

Jefferson could feel both women's gazes upon him. He couldn't look at Elizabeth, too shameful to witness her expression. Instead he looked at Regina, his guilt turning to anger at the triumphant grin upon her lips.

"That…that wasn't what it looked like…" Jefferson choked out, his eyes trailing to the floor.

"That's what they all say," Regina muttered, eyes shining with anticipation as she awaited Elizabeth's reaction.

"I didn't ask for your opinion," Elizabeth forcefully said, her voice so cold and hollow that he hardly recognised it. Jefferson lifted his gaze slightly, forcing himself to look into Elizabeth's eyes. As expected, they brimmed with anguish that made his insides twist, yet she also seemed to be searching him, seeking the truth.

"I know what I saw," Elizabeth said, Jefferson and Regina watching as she took off the engagement ring that was around her finger. "And for saying you're a woman whose husband has just died, you seem awfully pleased with yourself right now."

Regina's grin faltered as Elizabeth held up the engagement ring between her fingers, the stones shining in Regina's face.

"I know that you've seen this, you commented on it the day after we got engaged. This semi-precious stone, enchanted with magic, encased in a silver band, is enough to make me believe that Jefferson would never kiss you, not willingly. He's proved enough times that he loves me. Oh, and you might be interested to know that despite this being the dark one's residence, the walls aren't especially thick."

Sliding the ring back onto her finger, Elizabeth jabbed her finger into Regina's chest.

"Don't you ever insult my children like that again," Elizabeth spat, "You're not my queen, so I can slap that smirk off your face as hard as I damn well please."

Without even waiting to acknowledge an answer from Regina, Elizabeth turned to Jefferson, her angered features softening.

"Let's go."

Jefferson followed Elizabeth back out into the hallway, with too many thoughts, too many questions, in his head to form a coherent sentence. Rumplestiltskin was back at his spinning wheel, though Jefferson was certain that the imp had heard everything, casting Elizabeth a slight glance before going back to spinning the straw. As they walked, Elizabeth's hand touched his. Unlike Regina's tight grasp, her touch was somewhat comforting, an unspoken forgiveness. He took Elizabeth's hand, using his free hand to push open the castle doors.

"I'm sorry," Jefferson said. Elizabeth, a step ahead of him, stopped. She turned to face him, the hand that held the ring reaching up and tenderly cupping his cheek, completely oblivious to the fact that Regina had done the same only a few moments earlier.

"It's not your fault Regina decided to use you in her attempts to antagonise me. If anything, I feel sorry for her," Elizabeth sighed.

"Sorry for her? You just threatened her!"

"I had to say something; I couldn't just let her win. That's what she wanted- for us to break off our engagement. Regina's jealous of our relationship and happiness, perhaps even the fact that we're starting a family, because she doesn't have that. All of her bitterness and sadness is fuelling her dark magic."

Elizabeth's words gave Jefferson an uneasy reminder of the part that he and Victor had played in helping to break Regina, and he lifted his hand out of hers, wrapping it around her shoulders before steering her down the path towards their home.

"Well you don't have to worry about that. I'm just glad that you didn't believe her," Jefferson said, parting the tangle of branches that blocked their path, allowing Elizabeth to pass through first.

"Of course I wouldn't believe her word over yours!" Elizabeth said, nestling her body into his side as they walked, falling into an even pace on the uneven ground.

The cold weather had driven most of the village into hibernation, with the usual market stalls tucked away to the side of the cottages. With no distractions, Jefferson and Elizabeth passed through fairly quickly, the remnants of warmth from Rumplestiltskin's castle having faded from their skin. Reaching the top of the hill, Jefferson parted from Elizabeth and hurried to the porch, where two bundles of wood lay.

"Geppetto delivered the two cots," Jefferson said, holding up the wood for Elizabeth to see.

Elizabeth reached the porch, giving Jefferson a rather unimpressed look. "I thought that you paid extra to have them built?"

"No, I want to build them," Jefferson explained, rotating the bundle that he held to reveal a slip of paper, "Look, he's left instructions. It can't be that hard."

"Alright then, I just thought that after that shelving incident you said that you wouldn't put anything up yourself," Elizabeth said, "but I'll make you a bet: if you can build both of those cots, without magic, then I'll tell Victor that we're engaged. And if you can't, then you're telling him."

"You ought start thinking of what to say," Jefferson cockily replied, lifting up the other bundle of wood. Nodding her head to confirm their bet, Elizabeth opened the front door.

"I'll get on with some more writing whilst you build the cots then," Elizabeth shrugged off her coat, and lifted his hat, placing them on the hooks. As Jefferson took off his own coat, the wood that he pressed against his side slipped slightly.

Jefferson hurriedly grabbed the wood, and Elizabeth helped him out of his coat, briefly kissing his cheek. Smiling happily at him, Elizabeth went into the kitchen, the room that she used as her place for writing. Firmly taking hold of the wood, Jefferson climbed the staircases to the nursery.

Placing each bundle onto the floor, that had already begun to gather dust, Jefferson examined the neatly written instructions. He knelt down, and unwound the string that held the wood together before getting to work.

* * *

" I've brought you up some tea, I thought that you might be in need of a drink," Elizabeth called from behind him, snapping him out of his intent focus.

Jefferson glared what very vaguely resembled the frame of a cot before him, placing a finger to his pounding temple.

"Are you sure that you don't want any help with that?"

Jefferson looked over his shoulder, his frustration only flaring at the suppressed smirk upon Elizabeth's lips.

"No, I don't," he replied through gritted teeth before going back to examining the length of wood he was holding.

Jefferson had no idea where he was supposed to put it in relation to the rest of the cot. Knowing that Elizabeth sensed this, he hurriedly slotted the wood into a rather large gap. With a satisfied sigh, Jefferson brushed off the splinters of wood that had gathered on his clothing and rose from kneeling.

"I told you that I could do it without magic," Jefferson announced, casting Elizabeth a look of triumph.

No sooner had the words come out of his mouth, came the snapping of wood and a loud crash. Whirling around, Jefferson stared down with dismay at what had been almost two hours of hard work: now reduced to a pile of wood.

A hand clasped just below his shoulder. From the corner of his eye, Jefferson could see the hem of Elizabeth's skirts brushing against his leg, though it was her laughter that caught his attention. She looked up at him, smiling apologetically between her soft chuckles of laughter before offering him the cup of tea.

"Looks like you'll be the one to explain to Victor how this ended up on my finger," Elizabeth's said as Jefferson took a sip of the steaming drink. Her hand shifted from rubbing his back, and she outstretched her arm, flashing the ring.

"We're visiting him today aren't we?" Jefferson said with a despondent sigh at the realisation, "Can't we leave it for a day...or week?"

Seeing Elizabeth's look, Jefferson hurriedly added, " I need to finish putting together these cots."

"Certainly not!" Elizabeth said, her firm tone mimicking her brother's perfectly, "I'm into my second trimester now, with twins, so it's vital that I'm checked on by a doctor. And anyway, Victor needs visiting every now and then. He's alone most of the time in that huge old house- it'd drive anybody insane."

Squeezing his hand, Elizabeth gestured to the pile of wood with a teasing grin, "After practically two hours, don't you think that you've done all you can do to try and build a cot?"

"I suppose," Jefferson said, finishing the cup of tea as he gave the wooden heap one last look of resignation, "I'll go and get my hat."

He returned a few minutes later, hat in hand. Jefferson tossed the hat with ease, and it fell onto the floor between the abandoned wood. The hat began to enlarge, magic streaming from it's brim. Taking hold of Elizabeth's hand, they both jumped into the hat.

* * *

The wintry sky of the Enchanted forest made the colourless land seem less contrasting, though seeing Elizabeth in only black and white was still a little bizarre for Jefferson. Despite the change in realm, the land without colour seemed to also be in winter as the ground was covered by a sheet of white snow. Their feet sunk into the snow as they walked, leaving dark footprints behind them.

"I was just thinking about our wedding," Elizabeth said as they reached the outskirts of the woods by the Frankenstein castle, "I know we'd agreed it won't be until once our children have been born, but we can plan ahead, right?"

"What are you planning?" Jefferson asked, giving Elizabeth a teasing nudge as they strolled up the driveway.

"Well, I was wondering who we'd invite, aside from Victor?"

Jefferson thought for a moment. Neither of them had much family, and Jefferson had very few people he was close enough to consider friends.

"How about Baelfire? The boy who saved us in Neverland?"

Elizabeth nodded, "And Oaken from Arendelle, and the tinman from Oz, and what about the March Hare and Dormouse?"

"Do you want someone from each realm?" Jefferson teased, as another person came to mind, "there's Achanda, the snake charmer I once met, always meant to take you to Agrabahn..."

"Sounds good: oh, and what you thought to Victor being our best man?"

"If he's not completely opposed to our marriage, then I don't see why not. He is your brother after all."

"He won't be," Elizabeth said, although she sounded somewhat doubtful as she knocked on the door.

There was silence for a moment, before the sound of footsteps approached them, and the door opened.

"Afternoon Victor," Elizabeth said, giving her brother her usual embrace.

"I'm glad to see you two haven't been to Wonderland again," Victor replied, nodding curtly at Jefferson, "you two better come in, Igor's only just got the fire going."

Elizabeth and Jefferson stepped inside, following Victor past the invitingly warm rooms down to the laboratory.

"How are you then, Elizabeth?" Victor said, as he began to gather his papers and equipment. Elizabeth glanced at Jefferson, unable to hide her grin at Victor's oblivion to her engagement ring.

"Better than last time I visited you..." Elizabeth gave a slight cough to hide her laugh as she settled onto the operating table and lifted up the layers of her skirt, "the morning sickness has finally ceased."

"Excellent," Sliding the silver stethoscope around his neck, Victor turned around, finally catching sight of glistening ring upon Elizabeth's hand that rested upon her skirts. "What is that?" Victor said, his voice slightly strangled.

Elizabeth merely gave a sweet grin, before tilting her head to where Jefferson stood behind the operating table and looked up at him enquiringly.

"I asked for Elizabeth's hand in marriage...and she said yes."

"When did this happen?" Victor demanded, glancing from Jefferson to Elizabeth.

"About two weeks ago."

Victor nodded slowly and sighed, "I hadn't realised that you were going to get married so soon, although I suppose then they won't be illegitimate."

"I'm marrying your sister because I want to spend the rest of my life with her, not because she's pregnant," Jefferson said, sounding harsher than he'd intended.

"We were hoping that perhaps you'd be our best man?" Elizabeth asked, looking up at Victor.

"Well, yes, if you want me to," Victor said, a hint of a smile upon his serious features.

"Of course we do," Elizabeth laughed, "but the wedding won't be until after I've given birth, so you have plenty of time to write your speech ranting about how a portal jumper stole your sister from her engagement."


	36. Chapter 36

Pocketing the hourglass, Jefferson turned on his heel and strolled back past the grimy glass cabinets before the shop keeper could return from out back, his exit marked only by the chime of the bell as the door closed behind him. A horse and carriage were passing by as Jefferson stepped out onto the pavement, and he tipped his hat as people of this land tended to do. The last thing he needed to was to arouse any suspicion. Glancing subtly down the street, Jefferson began to walk. Arriving at the corner, he crossed over and went down the steps beside the black railings.

A few people were milling around the centre of the village: mostly governess' pushing prams and well-dressed gentlemen with a haughty air to them. Jefferson merged in perfectly, unnoticed as he went to one of the benches that overlooked the cliffs. A woman was already sat down, her dark hair piled into a bun. Jefferson sat down beside her, and she lowered her newspaper.

"Took you long enough," Elizabeth remarked, folding the newspaper up, "I've had to read this twice."

"I'm sorry, the shop keeper wouldn't move from the counter. Kept babbling on about some festivities, clearly doesn't get many customers."

"You mean the Christmas market?" Elizabeth pointed to a large advertisement on the final page of the newspaper, "It started about an hour ago, just around the corner."

Sensing what she was about to ask, Jefferson took off his hat and flipped it between his fingers. "Let me guess, you want to stay in here a little longer?"

"It isn't as though Rumplestiltskin's waiting on us."

Jefferson gave a nod of agreement, and slung his hat back onto his head before slumping slightly in his seat. "You go; I'll stay and enjoy the view."

"You are not getting out of this," Elizabeth said with a flicker of a smile as she grabbed his hand and tried to pull him upright, "You can help pick the decorations."

Groaning, Jefferson begrudgingly stood up, but only because Elizabeth had proceeded to jab his arm with a surprisingly sharp finger. "Look, nobody in the enchanted forest has ever heard of this Christmas thing. From what you've told me, it sounds like you want to turn our house into some kind of beacon of shiny things."

"That's one of the aspects of Christmas: you'd understand if I showed you," Taking his arm, Elizabeth's voice took on a more persuasive tone, "We won't stay long, I promise. Then we can go back home."

Jefferson knew that there was no use in disagreeing: Elizabeth was already leading him back through the town centre and towards the pier, where the Christmas market appeared to be held. Despite the flurry of snow that cascaded to the ground, there was an evident sense of merriment that only increased Jefferson's frustration.

Crowds of people bustled by as they entered the market, each swathed in several layers of clothing to combat the cool sea breeze that rippled from the crashing tide. A babble of noise pulsated through across the pier, heightened by the rather tinny music that was blaring strange songs from some unknown place. Several dozen market stalls were set up, each crammed with all sorts of bizarre items and bright lanterns. Many sold an array of sickly looking foods, creating a pungently sweet smell, which combined with the endless cheer, seemed to drive away the icy chill from the sea. Jefferson stared around, trying to make sense of it all, pulled along the pier by Elizabeth.

* * *

"Still don't understand what all the fuss is," Jefferson said as Elizabeth crammed yet another purchase into one of the paper bags she was carrying.

Elizabeth hadn't heard him, and continued walking, leading him back down the pier.

'_Perhaps we're finally done,'_ Jefferson thought, catching up with Elizabeth at the prospect of finally being able to leave what he had decided was hell. His heart sank as they came to an abrupt, Elizabeth stopping by one of the food stalls. This one was selling the strangest food of them all: unlike the jars of sweets that Jefferson recognised and had even tasted, these jars were filled with something completely alien.

"Oh we have to buy some mincemeat, Jefferson!" Elizabeth excitedly announced, beaming up at him before thrusting a jar towards him, "It's one of the most delicious things ever!"

Jefferson frowned, looking down at the jar. The contents, a thick, slimy, brown substance that contained what Jefferson guessed were fruit shavings, didn't look especially appealing.

"If you want," He muttered, fishing into his pocket in search of some more of the coins that this land operated in and handing them to Elizabeth.

"I do apologise for my fiancé," Elizabeth said, addressing the elderly stall owner, "He's not really the Christmas sort."

"A bit like Ebenezer Scrooge then," the stall owner laughed, taking the shillings from Elizabeth. Seeing Elizabeth's confused look, she clarified, "You know, out of A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens' new book?"

"I haven't read it I'm afraid," Elizabeth said as the woman passed her the paper bag. Elizabeth glanced into the bag and set it down on the stall.

"There are two jars in here: I've only paid for one."

"You'll get through it quickly dear and I'm sure your child will share your love for it," The woman said, nodding towards the bump that Elizabeth's coat didn't quite hide.

"That's very kind of you, but I'm not expecting for another four months! I couldn't possibly-" Elizabeth began, taking one of the jars out of the bag.

"It's a good thing that mincemeat has a long date then."

Noting the old woman's stern gaze, Elizabeth nodded and put the jar back into the bag with a gracious smile.

"Thank you, and merry Christmas," She said, taking the bag with one hand, and linking the other arm through Jefferson's.

"Can we go now?" Jefferson huffed as they were swallowed up once more in the throng of people.

"Oh cheer up! That was the last stall I wanted to visit," Elizabeth said, "Surely you can see the magic in Christmas and the wonderful spirit it creates?"

"No. It's cold and I want to get these trinkets back to Rumplestiltskin. If that shop keeper has realised I've nicked the hourglass and we get caught, I'm sure the peelers, or whatever they're called, won't have any of this 'Christmas spirit'. And I know that you want to go home too. I can tell that you're dying to put up some of those silvery snake things."

"I told you, it's called tinsel!" Elizabeth laughed, stopping once again as they approached another stall that was surrounded by a large crowd.

"I thought we were leaving?" Jefferson demanded as Elizabeth tugged him towards the stall.

"Just one more, I think they're selling copies of that book the lady was talking about," Elizabeth said, suddenly stumbling into Jefferson as a figure pushed past her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine…" Elizabeth murmured, but Jefferson had already grabbed the shoulder of the person who tried to dart ahead, dragging them back by the scruff of their neck. He swivelled them around and glared at the scrawny youth.

"Even street-rats have enough courtesy not to barge into a pregnant woman," Jefferson spat, "show some respect."

"Jefferson, really, I'm not hurt-"Elizabeth began.

"He can still apologise."

"Sorry mister…sir…and miss," the youth stammered, his eyes staring down at his feet. With a satisfied nod, Jefferson released the boy and he scarpered off.

Looking around, Jefferson saw that the crowd had suddenly parted.

"Is it a bit too immoral to use your pregnancy as a way of stealing stuff and getting through crowds back home?" Jefferson whispered as he led Elizabeth through the crowd to the front of the stall, one arm around her.

"Yes," Elizabeth hissed before smiling across at owner of the stall, who was indeed selling books, many of which entitled 'A Christmas Carol'. Some had other titles, but all had the name Charles Dickens printed upon them.

"I've never heard of any these before," Elizabeth mused, picking up one of the books and reading the synopsis. She then flicked through the front pages and gave a slight nod to herself before putting it back in place.

"A copy of A Christmas Carol please," She announced, handing the coins to the young man that was perched upon a stool behind the stall, his top hat resting precariously upon his head as he stared at Elizabeth, his eyes rather blatantly trailing down to her chest.

Jefferson coughed impatiently, fixing the man, who could only be a year or so older than him, with a glare that rivalled that of the one he'd given the youth. The stall owner hurriedly took the money and handed Elizabeth a copy of the book.

"Merry Christmas," the man said, daring to wink at Elizabeth as he added, "God bless you."

"Merry Christmas to you too," Elizabeth replied politely, though Jefferson could hear the insincerity in her tone.

"That is why I don't like this land," Jefferson lowly said, once they were in the crowd again and out of earshot, "too many lecherous and rude youths. Plus, they all wear top hats, and that's my attire."

"I wouldn't say he was that lecherous: after all, you did kiss my hand when we first met, even though I was wearing an engagement ring."

"I hadn't seen it!" Jefferson defended, "and he could quite clearly tell that we were together. Barging into a pregnant woman is one thing, but staring at them…even I never went that low."

"Just forget about it, alright?" Elizabeth said, rubbing a hand soothingly on his arm, "You're starting to sound rather like Victor whenever we went into town."

Jefferson frowned at that and placed an apologetic kiss upon the back of Elizabeth's head. "I'm sorry; I don't mean to be over-protective. I just want you and our children to be safe."

Elizabeth didn't reply, although she leant into Jefferson a little, and he put his arm back around her shoulders, her snow tipped coat soft and cold beneath his fingertips. Realising that the raucous crowds had faded away, Jefferson looked up to see that walked back into seaside village. The gloomy weather had darkened the sea front, making it seem quite late in the day, although the cathedral bells only rang three times as they walked by.

Although Elizabeth wandered at a rather leisurely pace through the quaint streets, Jefferson listened out for any sound of the local police force. But the streets remained quiet, though Jefferson was relieved to catch sight of the alleyway that they'd arrived in. Keeping hold of Elizabeth's hand, they ventured down the alley, both studying the crumbling bricks to find the outline of the door.

"There!" Elizabeth pointed to the worn away gap in one the bricks that formed the door handle.

Jefferson muttered the incantation under his breath, and the faded red bricks around the handle slid out of place and re-arranged to create a door.

"It's like the entrance to Diagon Alley," Elizabeth said to him, "Now that place did have some strange things."

"Nothing is stranger than that slimy concoction you've brought."

"Mincemeat isn't slimy!" Elizabeth said, pushing open the brick door and stepping into the hat's hall of doors, Jefferson following behind her.

* * *

With a sigh, Jefferson pushed the front door shut. The warmth and quiet of their house was rather welcomed by the throbbing sensation behind his forehead. Jefferson had had enough of crowds for one day.

"So, what is Christmas anyway?" Jefferson asked, shrugging off his damp coat and hanging it on one of the wooden pegs by the door.

"I explained it to you the other day," Elizabeth called from the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of water being poured into the kettle, "Traditionally; it's a religious holiday, which is why this land doesn't celebrate it: you have magic to answer your prayers."

As Jefferson crossed the hall to the kitchen, he stopped by the bags that Elizabeth had discarded beneath the staircase. He took one of the rounded glass globes that were threatening to fall out of a bag. Jefferson moved to the doorway of the kitchen and held up the object.

"But what's this for?"

Elizabeth looked up from pouring the water into the two cups that were on the table. "It's a bauble. They're for decorating the Christmas tree with."

"Why do you need to decorate a tree?"

"I don't know! You just do," Elizabeth snapped. Shaking her head with a sigh, she took one of the cups and brought it over to Jefferson. "Victor will tell you, our family was never really that religious. We both just enjoyed celebrating Christmas because it was one of the only times of the year that our family was all together. I'd be able see Victor and Gerhardt after being stuck in an all-girl boarding school. Plus, once our father had retired to his study, we could exchange presents. Gerhardt once gave Victor a microscope that had belonged to a friend's father, and Victor always gave me at least one book. And I really want to celebrate it here with you, as a family."

"We can celebrate it," Jefferson said, the bauble spinning as he twisted the string between his fingers, "I'm just curious, that's all."

"Well you can help decorate if you want, although you probably put that bauble down before it breaks," Elizabeth laughed, handing Jefferson the cup of tea once he had slipped the decoration back into its bag, "Although we need a tree first. There's a rather large fir tree at the edge of the garden you can cut. I was thinking of putting it in the living room, okay? Once you're done, maybe I'll let you try one of the best mince pies that you've ever tasted?"

"You mean the most burnt mince pies I've ever tasted?"

"I just left those tarts in for a little bit too long, they were still edible," Elizabeth said, taking one of the bags from the floor. "They were!" She cried as Jefferson raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Then why didn't you eat any of them?" Jefferson called after her, though Elizabeth ignored him.

Finishing his cup of tea, Jefferson placed the empty cup on the cabinet before rooting around in the stove's basket of logs for the axe. Tugging it out, Jefferson grabbed his coat and ventured back outside.

* * *

Panting hard, Jefferson loosened his cravat and cursed at the axe that was now wedged into the tree trunk. He'd swung the axe until his arms ached, creating only a tiny dent in the thick trunk. At the rate he was going, Jefferson suspected it would be gone Christmas by the time he'd managed to chop down the tree. Cutting up logs for the stove was one thing, but chopping down a whole tree was a feat that Jefferson knew he couldn't manage. But his ego was still a little sore after the failure attempt to build the cots that had resulted in him having to shame facedly contact Marco and ask him to come out and build them. Jefferson had only one option. He was far enough away from the house to be certain Elizabeth wouldn't see. Rubbing his cold hands together, Jefferson glared at the axe and imagined it chopping into the tree with ease.

The axe was prised out of the wood and began to chop. Soon enough, the fir tree had collapsed on the ground before him. It seemed to be even bigger lay down, and Jefferson doubted it would fit even in their high ceilinged living room, although it swiftly shrunk to a more reasonable size with a flick of his hands.

Figuring that it wouldn't do to put his back out, Jefferson levitated the tree, watching it float up the garden towards the house. Seeing Elizabeth's figure through the kitchen window, Jefferson let the tree fall back onto the ground before lugging past the house. Once he was out of sight from the window, Jefferson reverted back to using magic to carry the tree into the house.

He carefully guided it over the threshold, along the hallway and into the living room before standing the tree in the ceramic plant pot that he had found along the side of the house. Stepping back to admire his handiwork, Jefferson looked up at the tree, its tip a few centimetres away from brushing the ceiling. Satisfied, he went out into the hallway to inform Elizabeth that the tree was ready for decoration.

When Jefferson stepped back into the kitchen, a scene of utter chaos greeted him. A dusting of flour had somehow managed to coat almost every surface Shrouds of steam hung in the humid air, emitted from the boiled kettle that sat upon the stove. Elizabeth turned to greet him, brandishing the rolling pin, her face speckled with flour and a mound of pastry upon the table behind her.

"How are the mince pies coming along?" Jefferson asked as he approached Elizabeth.

"I'm just about to roll out the pastry," Elizabeth replied, "it was a bit wet and there was slight incident when I opened the bag of flour…"

"Don't worry about it," Jefferson said, prising the rolling pin out of her hands, "You want me to help?"

"I can do it!" Elizabeth said, outstretching a hand to take back the utensil.

Jefferson gave her back the rolling pin and leant back on the worktop, watching Elizabeth with amusement as the rolling pin smacked into the ball of pastry. Pressing down into the pastry, Elizabeth worked the rolling pin back and forth, the pastry slowly disintegrating. Jefferson sidled up to her so that he was standing behind Elizabeth, his arms sliding around her waist so that his hands could take hold of the rolling pin. Putting the utensil to one side, he leant into Elizabeth, her skin warmed from being beside the stove.

"You want to do it like this."

Jefferson shaped the pastry back into a ball before gently pressing down with the palms of his hands. He then began to press the pastry down with the rolling pin, rotating it slightly as he rolled upwards.

"You have to roll out different areas of the pastry, rather than just the same section," Jefferson explained, guiding the edge of the rolling pin as Elizabeth resumed rolling, her index fingers brushing against the edge of his hands.

Once the pastry had been rolled out into one thin layer, Jefferson retracted his hands, his arms still cradled around Elizabeth. His hands rested upon the pronounced bump beneath her dress, the crown of her hair skimming along his jaw. Elizabeth gave a soft sigh, placing her own floury hands on top of his. Suddenly, Jefferson felt something hit against the palm of his hand.

"Did you feel that?" He asked, glancing down at Elizabeth, before sliding his hands out from beneath hers and guiding Elizabeth's hands down slightly as she shook her head.

"Well I've felt a few little jolts recently, but nothing-" Elizabeth's words were cut short by a gasp, "Oh! One of them is kicking!"

"I know," Jefferson said, somewhat surprised by the excitement in his voice and the grin that formed upon his lips as he put his hands back onto the bump.

For a moment, they were both quiet, revelling in the bizarre sensation of their two children beginning to move about. The movements soon stopped, Elizabeth's shoulders slumping slightly as she gave a disappointed sigh.

"Well, these mince pies won't make themselves," she said, "can you start cutting up the bases? I'll just get the mincemeat."

Jefferson obligingly stepped back and Elizabeth went around him to retrieve the jar from the cupboard beside him. As Jefferson began to cut up the pastry with a mug, he caught sight of Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye. She had unscrewed the lid of the jar and proceeded to sniff the contents.

"What on earth are you doing?" Jefferson asked, laughing bemusedly as he placed the first few bases onto the tray.

Elizabeth looked up, her eyes wide as she stared sheepishly up at him, oblivious to the mincemeat that had transferred onto the tip of her nose.

"I just love the smell of mincemeat: it's pretty much Christmas in a jar…what's so funny?"

"Nothing," Jefferson smirked, pressing a kiss to Elizabeth's nose, the sweet mincemeat sticking to his lips.

"Get off!" Elizabeth pushed him away, laughing despite her disgust, "Stop kissing me in order to lick food off my face!"

"I'm sorry," Jefferson wrapped his arms back around Elizabeth, the open jar of mincemeat held between them as he kissed her again, this time on the lips.

Tentatively pulling away, Elizabeth set the jar down on the worktop before taking out a large spoon and pointing it at the baking tray. "Can't we finish making these mince pies first?"

With a sullen pout, Jefferson unwound his arms. He began cutting the bases again, Elizabeth taking another mug and cutting out the other before placing them in the baking tray.

"This is the best bit," Elizabeth said, scooping a huge lump of mincemeat out of the jar and dolloping it into the nearest pastry base. She passed Jefferson a spoon and he filled the other side of the baking tray, using slightly smaller spoonfuls than Elizabeth.

Once the mince pies were cooking in the stove, Elizabeth took the remaining bags of Christmas items and led Jefferson into the living room. Within the hour, and after several disputes over how best to decorate, they had wound the tinsel around the tree's stem, dangled baubles off almost every available branch, and Elizabeth had even permitted Jefferson to magic the golden star to rest on top of the tree. Ordering Jefferson to remain in the living room, Elizabeth slipped back into the kitchen, reappearing with a plate of small pies that were sprinkled with icing sugar.

"Go on, try one," Elizabeth lifted off the topmost mince pie and presented it to him. The golden brown pastry was still warm between his fingers as Jefferson brought the pie to his mouth and took a bite.

The piping hot mincemeat was stickily sweet, and Jefferson had to admit, it certainly tasted a lot better than it had looked in the jar.

"It's not burnt; I'll give you that," Jefferson teased, unable to hide his smile. Elizabeth beamed, "I knew you'd like it."

* * *

The days to Christmas vanished as rapidly as Elizabeth's mince pies, though Jefferson hadn't realised the exact date until he was rudely awoken one morning in late December by the warm duvet being torn off the bed. As the cold hit him, Jefferson's eyes snapped open and darted accusingly around the bedroom. Stood at the foot of the bed was Elizabeth, wearing nothing but one of his shirts and a grin even wider than the Cheshire cat's.

"Get up, it's Christmas day!" She announced through a mouthful of the mince pie.

"Can't I sleep?" Jefferson grabbed the edge of the sheets and attempted to pull them back up.

"But it's Christmas!" Taking his hand, Elizabeth pulled at Jefferson's arm, pouting as he tried to roll back over.

"Alright, alright, I'm getting up!" Stifling a yawn, he swung his legs around the edge of the bed and took the dressing gown that Elizabeth had handed him.

"Come on, come on," Elizabeth led him out into the hallway, her expression only growing more animated as she glanced up at him.

The gradual decoration of the house hadn't seemed especially grand at the time, but in the cool morning air and clear sunlight, the decorations seemed even grander. Gingham bunting was hung along the hallway walls, the red tinsel that was snaked down the banister brushing against their fingers. The downstairs hallway was similarly decorated, the aroma of mincemeat and cinnamon growing slightly stronger.

"This way," Elizabeth said, going onto her tiptoes, her hands covering over his eyes. "Three steps forward then turn ninety degrees," She whispered, guiding Jefferson towards the living room. Her hands flew away and Jefferson stared around the room. The tree looked just as it did the day before, but the plate of mince pies that Elizabeth had insisted they put out was now empty: and there was a small wrapped box beneath the tree.

"Merry Christmas," Elizabeth bent down and lifted the box before handing it to Jefferson, "Go on, open it!"

Holding the box with one hand, Jefferson peeled away the red paper to reveal a black box. He lifted up the top. Cushioned in deep purple velvet was a rose gold compass, the black needle quivering at North.

"Just in case you ever get lost once I stop portal jumping," Elizabeth explained, "No matter which realm you're in- as long as there's a gravitational thing, it should point North."

"It's wonderful, thank you. But you didn't have to get me anything," Jefferson said, staring down at the compass as he added lowly, "I'm sorry, I didn't get you anything."

Elizabeth chuckled softly and her hands reached up to cup Jefferson's jaw, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You don't need to buy me anything. All I need is you."

"Elizabeth..." She leant into him, fingers trailing down his skin, "Can you smell burning?"

Elizabeth snapped away, her face falling as she inhaled, "The pigs in blankets!"

Shaking his head, Jefferson followed Elizabeth, who had darted off to the kitchen. Smoke billowed out of the stove that she had flung open, and Elizabeth removed the baking tray to reveal several black and charred sausages wrapped in bacon.

"I wanted to do you a Christmas breakfast," Elizabeth said mournfully, "Although there are still the scrambled eggs and toast to do..."

"How about I finish making breakfast?" Catching sight of the defrosted turkey, Jefferson continued, "And perhaps dinner too?"

"That probably would be for best," Elizabeth kissed his cheek before taking the kettle from the stove and filling it up with water.

Jefferson put the slices of bread onto the grill of the stove and cracked the eggs into the saucepan Elizabeth had already placed on top of the stove. Elizabeth set the kettle back beside the saucepan, humming softly as she gracefully moved across the kitchen to fetch two cups. Scraping the edges of the scrambling eggs, Jefferson watched as Elizabeth took out the toast and shoved a slice into her mouth.

"Are you going to wait for breakfast or just eat it all now?"

"I'll wait," Elizabeth said, taking the cups of tea back to the kitchen table. She took a seat and wiped away the crumbs from her cheek before placing a hand to her abdomen, "These two are always hungry."

"I guess that's why I've only had three mince pies out of the two batches you've done over the last two weeks?" Jefferson asked, sliding half of the scrambled eggs onto each plate of toast.

"Maybe..." Elizabeth leant back in her seat, sipping at her cup of tea.

Jefferson sat down on the opposite side of the table and handed Elizabeth her plate before tucking into his own plate of scrambled eggs.

"Might be able to try out that compass," Jefferson said, having swallowed a mouthful of toast, "Depends upon where Rumplestiltskin sends us."

"It's Christmas day! Rumplestiltskin can't send us anywhere: I refuse to work," Elizabeth folded her arms, a hint of an obstinate smirk upon her lips, "But if you're eager to use the compass, you could see if it works in the Land without colour? When we visited Victor last week I invited him to spend Christmas with us.

"And he said yes?" Jefferson asked, unable to his incredulous tone.

"Yes! I thought it'd be nice; we'd be able to show him the nursery, and celebrate Christmas in colour. Plus your Christmas dinner will probably taste much better. "

"Of course it will," Putting down his empty tea cup, Jefferson rose from his seat and glanced out of the window. The ground appeared to be firm with frost, the grass still visible, although the sky was dark with heavy, snow filled clouds. "I'll go get dressed."

* * *

The warmth from his cup of tea seemed to fade away as Jefferson released the field mouse that'd he pocketed from outside of their house and stepped out into the gnarled woodland that surrounded the Frankenstein estate. In the middle of winter, the colourless land seemed to be bleaker than ever, a sense of starkness within the bitter air from the skeletal trees against a grey sky. Whenever he took Elizabeth to see her brother, he always led her through the woods as swiftly as he could.

Having grown up playing hide and seek in the maze of trees, Elizabeth had never sensed it, but to Jefferson the woods were too foreboding to ever be pleasant to walk through. The empty branches swayed with a crackle, whispering the Count's words. Jefferson knew that he was long gone, but still, he quickened his pace slightly and was rather relieved to catch sight of a chimney of the Frankenstein castle. Glancing down at the compass that glowed gold in his hand, the needle duly pointing north, Jefferson found the parting of the trees that led out onto the driveway and stepped out of the woods.

The crunch of gravel beneath his feet was the only sound that Jefferson could hear, the lifeless countryside that surrounded the castle silent. His breath misting before him, Jefferson hurried up the steps of the porch and rapped on the knocker. Tapping his foot, Jefferson listened for any sign of life behind the front door.

After what felt like an eternity to the rather cold Jefferson, the door finally opened, though only by a few centimetres.

"If you're another bunch of carollers, I'm not giving you any money," Came Victor's voice from behind the door.

"And Elizabeth said I was Scrooge," Jefferson muttered, "Open up Victor, it's me."

The door opened fully, and Victor, who Jefferson presumed had just come from his laboratory, was wearing his lab coat, faced him.

"What are you doing here on your own? Is Elizabeth alright?"

"She's fine. Really, she's great. You're coming over for Christmas dinner, right?"

Victor stared at him blankly for a moment, before nodding with a slight frown, "It's Christmas day already?"

"Yep- didn't realise myself until Elizabeth had forced me out of bed this morning and almost burnt down the kitchen trying to make breakfast."

"I'm afraid Christmas always brings out the child in Elizabeth, and haven't you realised by now how dangerous it is to leave Elizabeth in a kitchen unattended?" Victor said, suddenly noticing that Jefferson was still stood in the doorway, "Come in, it's freezing out there. I'll just be a moment."

Closing the door behind him, Jefferson gazed around the hallway, Victor having hurried up the staircase. In the weak sunlight, the lining of dust was even more apparent, the dark tiles covered in moist damp. Upon the wall, its frame looking rather corroded was the portrait. The happiness in their faces seemed somewhat tainted as Jefferson wondered how only a few years later, they could all be torn by apart by the loss of the woman stood to the right of her husband, a charitable smile upon her face.

Jefferson looked up at sound of approaching footsteps on the stairs, Victor clutching a bottle in one hand and the handle of a worn leather box in the other.

"I'm afraid I didn't really know what to get you, and ironically people always used give me a bottle of this because I'm pretty difficult to buy for," Victor said as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He handed Jefferson the opaque bottle, its label fresh and white. "You don't mind mulled wine do you?"

"Not at all," Reading the label, which promised a sweet yet mature beverage, having been brewed ten years ago, Jefferson was struck by the generosity of Elizabeth and Victor, the compass feeling rather heavy in his coat pocket. "It's very...nice of you. Thanks."

"I couldn't give Elizabeth something and not give you anything," Victor replied, looking down as he buttoned up his coat.

"We should probably get going- I've left Elizabeth to watch over the dinner," Jefferson said, warranting a low laugh from Victor.

* * *

The first few flecks of snow had begun to fall as Jefferson and Victor emerged from the hat into the forest, the ground firm beneath their feet as Jefferson led Victor in the direction of the village in which his house was on the outskirts. Both walked fairly quickly, eager to escape the bitter cold that encompassed the almost deserted forest, though their journey was not an unpleasant one. Jefferson filled Victor in on Elizabeth's shopping spree at the Christmas market, whilst Victor recounted several anecdotes from past Christmases, including when Gerhardt had once presented Elizabeth with lipstick that he'd managed to get hold of, despite attending an all-boys boarding school with Victor.

A plume of smoke rose from the chimney as Jefferson and Victor reached the top of hill, and he exchanged a glance with Victor before knocking on the door. Unlike her brother, Elizabeth flung the door open, beaming at the sight of them.

"The kitchen's not on fire is it?" Jefferson asked as he stepped inside.

"No! I've just put the chicken in the stove and the vegetables are cooking nicely. I just forgot about the breakfast, that's all. It doesn't mean that I'm incapable of cooking altogether, despite what Victor may have told you," Elizabeth shot a reprimanding glare at her brother before laughing and pulling him into an embrace.

"Elizabeth, you only saw me three weeks ago," Victor muttered, placing a hand on Elizabeth's back, her head pressed to his chest.

"I still missed you!" She stepped back, her hands on Victor's shoulders. Elizabeth looked him up and down. His dark coat was now an olive green colour and his snow dusted hair was a dirty blonde. "You look better with a little colour in your cheeks," she quipped, ignoring the roll of Victor's eyes.

"As do you Elizabeth. Oh, and I have something for you," From behind his back, Victor produced the box that had taken with him from the Land without colour and presented it to her, "I've been so busy in the laboratory, I haven't had chance to wrap it up, but Merry Christmas."

"Is that-?" Elizabeth gasped, taking the box and undoing the latches. She lifted the lid, her smile widening as a tea set was revealed, with each piece of crockery set into a small mould to prevent it from breaking. "I haven't seen this in years!"

"You being spiked by the tea in Wonderland reminded me of how much you used to love holding tea parties as a child, so I did some digging around in the attic and found your old tea set. I thought perhaps you'd like to use it with your children?" Victor said.

"It's perfect, Victor, thank you. I'll just go and put this in the nursery: in fact, do you want to come with me? I'd love for you to see what we've done," Taking Victor's arm, Elizabeth ascended the stairs.

"I'll go and check on dinner," Jefferson called up to her and Elizabeth nodded, her eyes still lit up at the tea set that she clutched. Smiling to himself, Jefferson took the bottle of wine from where he had placed it on the cabinet and headed into the kitchen.

Elizabeth had done a good job of watching over the dinner, the chicken beginning to brown behind the glass door of the stove. Having brought the potatoes to the boil, Jefferson set the table as he waited for Elizabeth and Victor to come back downstairs. They were too high up for him to hear their footsteps, though Jefferson suspected that Elizabeth was probably taking the opportunity to show Victor around the rest of the house. Setting down three coasters onto the white tablecloth, Jefferson set the bottle of mulled wine onto the table alongside two glasses and a tea cup for Elizabeth. Although Jefferson hadn't wanted to spoil his appetite, he couldn't help but sneak one of Elizabeth's mince pies, hurriedly swallowing the final bit as the sound of voices grew louder.

"-I'm amazed that we still had that tea set, I thought it'd gone years ago," Elizabeth stepped into the kitchen, catching Jefferson brushing away the crumbs from around his mouth. "Is that supposed to be revenge for me eating so many?" She laughed, placing several cylindrical objects onto the table between each mat.

"What is that?" Jefferson asked, taking the nearest one of them and holding it up. The red paper body glittered in the light, and the edges seemed to be squashed in slightly, bound in place by ribbons.

"Apparently, it's some new Christmas decoration called a cracker," Victor said "although this is the first time that I've seen one."

"That's because they haven't been invented in our land yet, nor has that book I was showing you been published yet," Elizabeth explained, taking the cracker off Jefferson and shaking it. "According to the person I brought them off, one person pulls at each end, and whoever pulls hardest makes it snap and whoever gets the biggest bit gets the prizes inside. Go on, Victor, you pull one with Jefferson."

She handed the cracker back to Jefferson and Victor took hold of the other end, studying the cracker with interest.

"It won't do anything unless you pull it!" To prove her point, Elizabeth put her hands around Jefferson's and yanked their end of the cracker hard, forcing Victor to tightly grab onto his end to stop it flying out of his hands.

There was a loud snapping sound and both Victor and Jefferson jumped, equally as startled, as the cracker split into two and several sweets rained down onto the table. Laughing at their reaction, Elizabeth picked up the yellow paper crown that had also fallen out. "Oh I forgot to warn you, they do make a rather loud noise."

"Funny how you 'forgot' to warn us," Victor said dryly, though he too was smiling despite himself. He shifted slightly as Elizabeth tried to reach up and put the crown onto his head. "I'm not wearing that!"

"Yes you are," Elizabeth placed the crown rather resolutely onto his head, grinning wickedly.

Stifling back a laugh, Jefferson popped the cork of the wine and poured himself and Victor each a glass. Elizabeth and Victor had sat down and had already begun to bicker amiably over whose end of the cracker was bigger, and therefore should be wearing the crown. Shaking his head at the pair, Jefferson inhaled the aromatic scent of the roasting chicken and leant back in his seat.

'_This time next year,_' He thought to himself as he watched the last few flakes of snow float to the ground outside, '_We'll have two children to celebrate Christmas with- and I might even be married.'_

Whether it was from the sweet, bubbly drink that he was sipping, or the cheery atmosphere around the kitchen table, but somehow the future didn't seem quite as daunting to him as it had done only a few months ago.


	37. Chapter 37

"Are you sure that this correct?" Elizabeth asked, glancing down at the list between her fingers. "Lightning can't be contained, surely?"

"Not in your realm perhaps," Jefferson said, slipping between the people that milled around the market on the outskirts of the city. "But here in Stormhold, where magic is far stronger, it is possible to do such things."

He scanned between the crowds and stalls until he caught sight of the alcove by the kingdom's gates. Taking hold of Elizabeth's hand, Jefferson led her down towards the edge of the stalls. As they approached the back streets of the market place, his hand shifted up to rest on Elizabeth's back, between her shoulder blades.

"Keep close to me," Jefferson murmured. Elizabeth nodded, her eyes darting around. The stone walls had grown grimmer, and the dull January sky seemed to darken overhead. The stalls were spread out farther compared to those in the centre of the market, and far fewer people wandered about.

Never losing the close proximity to which he stood beside Elizabeth, Jefferson approached the person whom was stood rather casually behind a desk. A variety of items were crammed onto the desk, each as foreign and dangerous looking as the item that it was beside.

The young man behind the desk, whom had been fiddling with one of the many peculiar devices, hastily set down the object and smirked broadly at the sight of them, "Long time, no see, Jefferson."

"Ferdy," Jefferson nodded curtly to the man, whose gaze had fallen upon Elizabeth.

"What have you got for me today: a fallen star?" Ferdy flashed a toothy grin at Elizabeth, who frowned in confusion.

"A fallen star?"

"It's just some myth from this land Elizabeth," Jefferson explained brusquely, "what we're actually here for is-"

Ferdy cut in, his face animated as he recounted the tale, "They say that once, every few centuries, a star falls from the sky and lands as a beautiful woman. Fallen stars as so rare, they'd fetch an unimaginable fortune if you were to sell one..." At this, Ferdy glanced slyly at Jefferson.

"She's not a fallen star," Jefferson said, "And even if she was, I wouldn't sell her to you. I wouldn't sell her to anybody."

Seeing Jefferson's arm wrapped around Elizabeth's shoulder, Ferdy gave a slight nod of understanding.

"So you two are together… it's alright for some," He muttered to himself sourly.

"Well let's face it; dressed like that, the only date you're going to get is with Ditchwater Sal."

Ferdy sniggered and put his hands to the lapel of his rather worn jacket with a certain sense of pride, "You'll pay for saying that. Speaking of money: down to business. What have you got for me today then?"

"Actually, I was hoping to trade. Apparently you can get hold of anything. Even something that is illegal?"

"Like lightning?" Ferdy ducked beneath the desk for a moment before reappearing with a wooden container tucked beneath one arm, "Luckily for you, I got a fresh batch this morning: top quality lightning this."

Brushing away the assortment of objects on the desk, Ferdy set down the container and drummed his fingers upon its lid before continuing, "So I couldn't take anything that wasn't worth at least 250 guineas." Seeing Jefferson's expression, he added, "I've gotta make a living, you know? And what do you want to trade anyway?"

"How about some of this?" Taking out a pouch, Jefferson pulled out a length of golden thread and presented it to Ferdy. Although he tried to look nonchalant, the dealer's eyes had lit up and he ran his fingers along the thread.

"Doesn't quite look like 250 guineas…"

Rolling his eyes, Jefferson took out the rest of the spool and snapped it in half. Ferdy greedily took the half that Jefferson handed him and tucked it away in his coat pocket.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Ferdy gave an appreciative nod and pushed the container towards them.

Jefferson slung the container's leather strap over his shoulder and turned to Elizabeth, who had been studying a black orb.

"You fancy buying that? I'll do you a good deal."

"I'm not buying anything else dodgy off you- you've already robbed us of half our wages," Jefferson said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Ferdy.

The dealer merely gave a shrug and pushed a stray lock of tangled hair out of his eyes.

"Well if you not buying anything, you should get back to the market centre. People might actually think your girl is a star if they see such a pretty thing around here for too long."

"Fair point," Jefferson said, thinking of the rumours that he had heard of what witches did to girls who were fallen stars, "See you around."

Keeping one arm around Elizabeth, the other over his satchel that swung against his leg, Jefferson guided Elizabeth back to the open part of the market. Once they were in the open again, the pair were absorbed into the crowd, and Jefferson's arm dropped from around Elizabeth. Her hand took hold of his, swinging their arms slightly.

"You know that was the last item? Once we've given the items we've procured to Rumplestiltskin, I'll stop being your assistant until our children are born."

"What?" Jefferson stopped in the middle of the street, much to the annoyance of the passers-by. He stared down at Elizabeth, "It's six months already?"

"Yes," Elizabeth's eyes caught his, their warmth somewhat reassuring. Squeezing his hand, she added with a teasing tone, "No need to look so worried- I'm sure you can manage without me."

"It's not that…it's just- the next time we portal jump together, for work, we'll have children," Jefferson said, the realisation hitting him, "We're going to have children in three months."

"You've had six months to come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a father, and it is still sinking in?" Elizabeth said, and Jefferson gave a slow nod.

"Well it seemed such a long way away: and now…I mean it's really happening…"

"Yes, it is," Gently placing a hand on his arm, Elizabeth led Jefferson towards the nearest stall so that they were no longer obstructing the villagers. A variety of flowers were set out along the table that was set up before a yellow horse drawn caravan.

"These flowers are beautiful," Elizabeth murmured, her fingers brushing the petals of a cluster of bluebells.

"They're picked fresh from the meadows by the Wall."

Elizabeth glanced up at the voice. A woman had got up from her seat on the steps of the caravan and approached the table. The blue folds of her dress parted as she walked to reveal a string of pearls wrapped tightly around her ankle. She reached the table, the string pulled taut, though she cast them a small smile.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation, and I know that having a child can be a rather daunting prospect," She gave a soft sigh, her fingers toying with the stalk of a bluebell, "I had a son, but the witch that enslaved me wouldn't let me keep him. So I sent him to his father, over in Wall. He'd be about ten now."

"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth said sympathetically, "You must miss your son so much: I'm sure that he misses you too."

"How can you miss something that you've never had?" The woman muttered. Seeing the despondent look upon Elizabeth's face, she continued, "I don't mean to sound so bitter. But you've got nothing to worry about; you won't have to give your child up."

At the sound of approaching footsteps from the other side of the caravan, she raised her voice slightly, "So you'd like a bunch of snowdrops?"

Before Elizabeth could reply, the slave girl pressed the flowers into her gloved hand and whispered lowly to them, "Do you have any coins as payment?"

"No, only this," Jefferson handed her a length of the golden thread, but she gave an accepting nod and took the thread.

"Now go, before the witch sees you," She gave Jefferson a rather pointed look, "You've tricked her once and you only just managed to escape before she could turn you into an animal."

"Ditchwater Sal. I remember," Muttered Jefferson, "and I'd rather not see her again."

Casting a glance at Elizabeth, he followed her back into the passers-by that strolled along the street. Ditchwater Sal's loud voice was audible over the crowd, and Jefferson caught the words lightning and thief. Pressing a hand to Elizabeth's back, he urged her on through the crowds. They soon reached the gates of the Stormhold capital and found themselves back out in the meadows.

Relaxing slightly as the noise of the market faded away, Jefferson followed Elizabeth down the track amongst the tall grass that was speckled with snowdrops and frost. As they walked, Elizabeth remained silent, the blackbirds chirping overhead being the only noise across the otherwise still meadow.

"What's wrong?" Jefferson asked as he fell into step beside Elizabeth.

She didn't look up at him, her gaze focused down on the snowdrops that she clutched in the palm of her hand.

"Nothing, I'm thinking, that's all. About how sad it is that the son of the girl selling flowers can't really miss her, because he's never known her." Elizabeth exhaled deeply, "You never met your birth parents: have you ever missed them?"

"Well, not really," Jefferson said, "but when I see you and Victor together, I do feel a longing to have had family as a child. Not that it matters, because our children won't have to feel that way."

"They won't ever be alone," Elizabeth agreed, her sombre tone brightening slightly.

"Race you to the wall?" Jefferson suggested, and Elizabeth laughed.

"Go on then!" She began to run towards the stone wall that had appeared from behind the wavering grass, Jefferson darting ahead.

He reached the wall first, the roofs of houses from the village on the other side of the wall now visible. But when Jefferson hurtled through the gap, he vanished. Elizabeth soon caught up with him, and when she reached the gap, she too was transported back the hat's hallway.

Catching her breath, Elizabeth rested a hand on her abdomen for a moment.

"It probably is a good thing that I'm stopping portal jumping for the time being, I can't exactly run as fast as I used to," Elizabeth said, her features flushed from the cold.

"Perhaps that race was a little unfair, even if I did win," Jefferson pressed a kiss to her cool forehead before taking hold of her hands and leading Elizabeth across the hall to the carved wooden door of the Enchanted forest.

The woodland that they arrived in felt colder than the capital of Stormhold had, and Jefferson tugged up the collar of his coat. They had been brought out by the lake, its frozen waters glittering in the weak sunshine from the pale sun.

Feeling the smooth silk against his skin as Elizabeth slipped her hand into his, Jefferson wandered with her down the bank of the lake. As the water began to twist away in the direction of Regina's castle, Jefferson helped Elizabeth climb up the ridge and back onto the woodland path. He had brought them out close to the Dark one's residence, and they soon reached the colossal castle.

Inside, it was as dark as night. The dense curtains were drawn tight, though the room seemed to be lit by some kind of ethereal glow, making the glass cabinets and potions door along the far wall visible. Rays of light streamed out from a crack between the door and floor, Rumplestiltskin and Regina's voices drifting out. Going around the dining table, Jefferson pushed open the potions door.

Regina's angered words were cut short as the door creaked, and Rumplestiltskin's head whipped around to see who had interrupted. His irritated features relaxed at the sight of Jefferson, Elizabeth in tow. Noting the container of lightning that Jefferson was carrying, the imp gave an approving nod.

"You got hold of the lightning I see."

"I have my sources," Jefferson withdrew the strap from across his body and set down the container on the bench. His eyes flitted up to where Regina was stood, her arms folded.

"We weren't interrupting were we?" He asked.

Regina parted her crimson lips to reply, though Rumplestiltskin interjected, "No, not at all. Now, the others items that I asked for?"

Jefferson took out the remaining objects from his satchel. Once they were all presented upon the bench, Rumplestiltskin snapped his fingers and a spool of golden thread appeared which he handed to Jefferson.

"I'll be reducing your wages as of tomorrow, what with Elizabeth no longer assisting you."

"No longer assisting?" Regina finally spoke up, her voice feigning curiosity.

"Just until I've given birth," Elizabeth said, her gaze flickering momentarily to Rumplestiltskin, "As we agreed when I first found out that I was pregnant."

"I see," Regina's lips were set into a hard line, her angered expression from when they had stepped in having faded into an unreadable expression.

Sensing that they most definitely had interrupted something, Jefferson stuffed the golden thread into his satchel. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

With a nod to Rumplestiltskin, he found his arm had settled around Elizabeth shoulders. He steered her towards the door, though once it was closed behind them, he couldn't help but linger. The argument between Regina and her mentor was now in low, inaudible tones.

"Don't you know that it's rude to eavesdrop?" Elizabeth whispered, taking hold of his hand in an attempt to pull him away.

"It's all part of the job."

She shook her head at that and sharply tugged at his arm, forcing Jefferson's legs to jolt forward like a limp ragdoll. The voices were growing a little more distinct, along with footsteps. But when Regina and Rumplestiltskin stepped into the main hall, the doors of the castle were swinging back together.

The Enchanted forest's winters were monotonously frigid, the iciness of the air still sharp despite being three weeks past Christmas. Spring seemed to be a distant dream. The only murmurs of life were their footsteps upon crackling twigs and the occasional noise of a deer traipsing through the evergreen holly. Few plants grew such a harsh season, though Jefferson had to push apart branches of the thriving coniferous bushes that flanked the edge of the woods.

Helping Elizabeth through the overgrown bushes, they walked side by side through the village. A few stray chickens wandered around, their beaks pecking fruitlessly at the solidified mud track for any remnants of corn. The soon reached the gradual incline of a hill that led to their house, their feet following the path of flattened grass. Jefferson reached the house first and collected a few of the logs that were on the porch before unlocking the door. He shrugged off his coat, Elizabeth following him inside and closing the door.

"I'll just go and put these flowers in a vase," Elizabeth said, having hung up her own coat.

"Meet me in the lounge, I was thinking of getting the fire going."

Holding the logs in his arms, Jefferson eased the lounge door open with his foot as Elizabeth went into the kitchen. With so little sunlight reaching the room, the lounge felt colder than ever. Kneeling down before the stove, Jefferson opened the small door and set a few of the logs down onto the ash covered base. Focusing his attention on the topmost log, he watched as a small purple spark ignited the wood, rapidly changing into an orange glow as the flames spread. Jefferson swung the stove door shut, the sound of footsteps padded across the lounge behind him just audible over the crackling of the logs.

"You can put these in if you want," Elizabeth said, handing him down a pile of papers.

Jefferson took the sheets from her, his eyes scanning across the lengths of deep blue ink that formed words in Elizabeth's swirling handwriting. "This is your writing; I can't put it on the fire."

"It's no good," Elizabeth said, "but it will help keep the fire going."

"Why isn't it any good?" Jefferson flicked through the pages to find the beginning and cleared his throat as if to begin reading.

Elizabeth snatched the papers back out his hands, clutching them to her chest. "You're not reading it! I told you, what I've written is no good."

"I'm sure it's better than you think," Jefferson reasoned, "Can't you read it to me instead, so you can have a second opinion on whether your writing should be burnt?"

Elizabeth cheeks flushed slightly in the glow of the fire as she replied, "I hate other people reading or hearing what I've written: it always sounds foolish and pretentious aloud."

"Please?" Rising from his knelt position, Jefferson looked down at Elizabeth, whose eyes were locked on the papers. "Not even a tiny bit?"

"Alright," Elizabeth sorted through the papers, a smile flickering as she read, "Once upon a time."

"That's it? There's far more than that written on those pages!"

"You said a tiny bit. That was a tiny bit."

"I can't make my mind up based on four words. Can't you at least read me a full sentence?"

Elizabeth gave a vehement shake of her head. "I want to keep it a surprise, so that the first time you read the story, it's to our children." She gave Jefferson a few of the sheets. "You can put these on the fire, they're just rough notes."

He crouched down once more and carefully pulled back the door of the stove. Bright flashes sparked between the burning logs, and he quickly tossed the sheets in. Elizabeth had sat down beside him, her legs crossed. They both watched as the flames licked at the creamy paper before hungrily devouring every last word.

"I'm guessing by the fact by the beginning and that you're writing a children's book, your story is going to be a fairy-tale?" Jefferson asked, turning his head to look at her, the warmth from the growing flames radiating onto his skin.

"You know they're my favourites," Elizabeth replied, shifting closer to him so that she could rest her head upon his shoulder. Her dark eyes reflected the glow of the fiery flames that danced inside the stove. Elizabeth gave a contented sigh that whispered against his neck. "Because as cliché as it sounds: you know that they'll always have a happy ending."

* * *

**Apologies for not updating in a while, been quite busy as of late/ have had a fatal mix of writers block and procrastination. However, there aren't that many chapters left of this story and what with my mocks rapidly approaching, I'm hoping to complete this story by Christmas. I just had to write about Stormhold from Stardust, because it's one of my favourite films! ^o^**


	38. Chapter 38

Over the next two months, Jefferson and Elizabeth settled into a pattern: Jefferson would leave before Elizabeth had woken and return from portal jumping by midday, whilst Elizabeth busied herself by writing; and as spring rapidly began to approach, gardening.

Although Jefferson hated Elizabeth having to wake up to an otherwise empty house, he did all he could to make sure he spent as much of the afternoon and evening with her.

However as the weeks had progressed, Elizabeth had grown increasingly devoted to her writing; forcing herself away from her pen and stacks of paper to spend the latter part of her day with Jefferson. He knew that Elizabeth was so engaged in her writing, she would not notice if he was slightly later than usual, which was why for the second time in a fortnight, Jefferson had not immediately returned home.

Having left Rumplestiltskin's castle, Jefferson lifted his hat from where it rested upon his head and flipped the brim between his fingers. Wandering down the path that led to the village until he was deep into the woods, Jefferson let go of the hat. It floated down the ridge and upon hitting the soil, began to rotate. For a moment, Jefferson watched as it enlarged in a chasm of magic, before jumping through.

Stepping through the door of the Enchanted forest into the hall, Jefferson crossed straight to the rounded red door that was parallel to him. He had no intentions of taking his time. Elizabeth's writing meant that minor things kept slipping her mind, and Jefferson couldn't help but fret over her being alone.

Ducking slightly to fit through the rather miniature door, Jefferson stepped out into a woodland very similar to the Enchanted of the sunlight was hidden in the dark trees that loomed overhead . Yet despite this the woodland seemed to be lit by a silvery glow, the tranquil air dense with dew and magic. Jefferson made his way through the trees easily enough, having visited the realm plenty of times.

Venturing out of the woods, Jefferson pulled out his compass, watching as the needle spun around before settling on north. He followed the point down the grassy trail along the rolling expanse of fields. In the misty horizon, the ridges of a mountain were just visible, and small villages in the depths of its valley. Walking at a steady pace, he soon reached the bottom of the hills and followed the thoroughfare towards the villages.

Within the hour, he had gone from the isolation of the Shire's expanses into the bustling city. The sun was on the verge of setting, orange flames lit on the torches that were on every street corner. Jefferson walked unnoticed by the Hobbits and men who were similarly passing through. He turned down onto one of the side-streets, the rowdy noise from the inn drifting from an open window onto the otherwise quiet street. Reaching the shop he had previously visited, Jefferson grasped the bronze handle. Once again he had to duck slightly to get through the doorway, the bell jangling behind him.

Rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, Jefferson lifted his head. The sizing of shop's objects only made him feel even taller: especially when the slight Hobbit whom owned the store came out to greet him.

"I thought that I heard a man's footsteps," She called to him with a warm smile, setting down a thin white box onto the counter, "Most orders are for Hobbits, so I'm certain this is yours. It's all there."

"Excellent," Taking the box, Jefferson handed her a small pouch of copper coins.

The door clanged shut behind him as he stepped out onto the street. Rain pattered down on the cobblestones, a few drops staining the cardboard boz he held. Its contents were too precious to be ruined and Jefferson tucked the box into his coat with one hand. As he walked through the emptying heart of Bree, the trickling drizzle rapidly descended into a downpour. Sheltering under the porch of a nearby lodge, Jefferson took the box out of the shelter of his coat and took off his hat with his other hand. The brim slipped from his fingers easily enough and landed on the damp stone. Keeping a tight grip upon the box, Jefferson jumped through the hat.

He was brought back to the woods that he had emerged from, the canopy of leaves keeping out most of the heavy rain. Jefferson found his way back to the rounded door, leaving behind the turbulent weather of Middle Earth.

For the second time that day, Jefferson landed back in the depths of the Enchanted forest. The rain had not followed him across the realms; instead a weak sun shone dimly in the hazy sky. It was not as late in the day as it had been in Middle Earth, and Jefferson hoped that he hadn't been long enough for Elizabeth to realise. A few remaining droplets clung to his leather coat, chilling in the sharp air. Brushing off the droplets that he could reach with his free hand, Jefferson continued through the woods.

He soon reached their house, the purple crocuses Elizabeth had planted that autumn peeking out from tufts of grass along the front garden. Resting the box between his side and arm, Jefferson unlocked the front door.

As ever, the house was quiet, though Jefferson was relieved to hear a few signs of life: the whistle of the kettle and crackling of the fire. Placing the box down on the top of the cupboard, Jefferson unbuttoned his coat, walking over to the doorway of the lounge as he did so. He snatched a glance to see that Elizabeth was sat upon the chaise longue, completely unaware of his presence. Edging away as quietly as he could, Jefferson slipped his coat onto the hook and took hold of the box before hurrying upstairs. His footsteps lightly bounded up the stairs and he swiftly made his way to their bedroom. The door eased open with a loud creak, though there were no footsteps from downstairs to suggest that Elizabeth had stirred . Gently placing the box onto their bed, Jefferson eased the bedroom door shut behind him before hurrying back down the staircase as silently as he could. Reaching the ground floor, Jefferson hesitantly looked into the living room, hoping that Elizabeth hadn't heard him moving about. Fortunately, her head was still bowed as she gazed intently down at the sheets that rested in her lap amidst the chaos that vaguely resembled their living room.

Papers had been strewn across the wooden floor, rustling slightly in the breeze that filtered through the ajar window. Several used tea cups were scattered around, along with a trail of biscuit crumbs. Stains of ink tricked off the nib of the pen that was held loosely in one hand and dotted the wooden floor. The fire that he'd lit for her that morning had almost died; though a few flickering embers remained amongst the ash.

"Elizabeth?"

Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice and Elizabeth twisted around, a bright smile breaking across her features at the sight of him.

"I don't think that it will be our children making a mess that I'll have to worry about: it's you," Jefferson teased, carefully navigating his way around the mass of papers that were held down by paperweight teacups.

Elizabeth frowned, glancing around the room before giving an apologetic sigh of realisation. Her lips twitched sheepishly, "I'm sorry, I hadn't even realised."

She leant over the closest pile of papers, straining slightly to reach them as the corners fluttered in the breeze.

"Here, let me get those: it's easier for me to stretch," Jefferson bent down and lifted up the sheets.

Placing them onto the desk, Jefferson sat down on the chaise longue next to her, "How is your secret writing coming along?"

"Very well; it's almost finished in fact," Elizabeth beamed, before giving a hapless gesture in the vague direction of the floor. "I've just been trying to sort out the order of it."

"I'll help you sort them out- but I've got something that I want to show you first."

Rising, Jefferson helped Elizabeth up and led her upstairs, one hand in hers, the other running up the banister. Elizabeth stepped up onto the landing first, followed by Jefferson. Keeping hold of her hand, he almost dragged her to the bedroom door in his eagerness. The door swung open with the press of his free hand, revealing the box upon the bed.

"That's what you wanted to show me- a box?"

Her disappointment didn't dishearten Jefferson, who excitedly announced, "Close your eyes and don't open them until I say."

With a perplexed shake of her head, Elizabeth's eyelids snapped shut. Freeing his hand from hers, Jefferson stepped forward to the bed and swiftly undid the crimson ribbon that bound the two halves of the box. He carefully lifted the lid and set it down before separating the sheets of burgundy crepe paper so that the box's contents were visible.

"You can open your eyes now." Jefferson watched Elizabeth's lips part in surprise as she stared at the open box.

"You brought that for me?" She asked softly, glancing up at him.

"Who else am I getting married to?" Jefferson grinned, Elizabeth approaching the bed and tentatively running her fingers along the fabric that lay amongst the papers.

Her smile mirroring his, Elizabeth lifted the fabric out of the box, the silky material unfolding in her arms. In the afternoon light of early spring, the ivory shade highlighted the rosy glow of Elizabeth's skin as she held the wedding dress up to her body. Intricate embroidery ran along the seams, delicate lace sewn onto the body of the dress, the material rippling into a flowing skirt that landed mid-thigh.

"It's beautiful," Elizabeth breathed.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to wait until you can try it on as I gave the dressmaker the measurements of one of your old dresses, seeing we're not getting married until October."

"Its fine, I can wait: I'm sure that it'll fit perfectly," Elizabeth's smile wavered slightly, and in an instant the gleam in her eyes seemed to fade. She set the dress down onto the bed, her hand quickly brushing against her cheek, leaving a shining streak.

"What's wrong?" Jefferson said, more tears trickling down Elizabeth's face.

"Nothing…" Elizabeth murmured, "I just…I don't tell you enough how much I love you."

"You don't need to," Jefferson sharply inhaled as Elizabeth's body rested against his, her head buried into his chest. He tenderly wrapped his arm around her, a wisp of hair brushing his jaw as he whispered into her ear, "My love is echoed in your eyes each and every day."

Elizabeth tilted her head upright, rising slightly onto her tiptoes so that her lips touched his. Kissing her back, Jefferson kept one hand around the small of her back, the other resting upon her cheek; skin soft beneath his firm fingers.

All too soon were Elizabeth's lips brought away from his, his hand torn from her cheek as she stepped back.

"You should probably go and answer the door, whoever it is sounds pretty insistent."

Jefferson hadn't even realised that there was someone at the front door, but as Elizabeth spoke, a loud knocking sounded; the sort of knocking that threatened to smash the door off the hinges if unanswered. Doing up his cravat that Elizabeth had been loosening, Jefferson stormed downstairs.

He swung open the door, and without even registering who was on the other side, spat, "What the hell do you want?"

"That's no way to address your Queen," Regina replied, "And you took your time answering the door."

"I was actually in the middle of something."

"Two children aren't enough then?" Regina said, smirking smugly at Jefferson's expression.

"I didn't mean it like that! Look, what are you doing here?"

"Rumplestiltskin sent me to visit on the way back to my castle as it appears that I'm not Queen but some idle messenger. He 'requests the services of your hat.'"

"I was just there this morning!" Jefferson snapped.

"Well if you let me finish, I was going to say that apparently it's something very important and requires your assistant too."

Before Jefferson could question Regina any further, Elizabeth's voice called from behind Jefferson.

"I've put the dress away Jefferson...what's going on?"

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Elizabeth approached the doorway. Any surprise at the sight of Regina was masked by her polite smile.

"Queen Regina. May I ask what you are doing trying to break our door down?"

"The Dark one wants to see you both," Regina replied shortly.

"But you're staying here Elizabeth," Jefferson glanced across at her, "Whatever it is, I can get it myself."

"He thought you would say that," Regina said. "Rumplestiltskin was very specific in stating how he requires both of you. Frankly I don't see how a heavily pregnant woman is going to steal something any faster, but he is in a bad enough mood as it is, so I wouldn't recommend refusing."

"Elizabeth isn't coming with me."

"Jefferson, it's fine I-" Elizabeth began.

"No. You're due to give birth less than two weeks, it's too dangerous."

"Look you two can argue about it all you like," Regina interrupted, "but bear in mind that the Dark one is waiting on you."

"Exactly. We should just go and find out why he wants us both and then you and I can decide if it's too dangerous," Elizabeth said.

Jefferson looked as though he was about to protest, but instead he gave a conceding sigh, "Alright."

"Now that you've passed on the message Regina, you can get back to your castle," Elizabeth said, her sweet tone laced with sarcasm.

Taking the hint, Regina cast Elizabeth a contemptuous look, "Whatever it is the Dark one wants you for, good luck."

Her dark hair whipping haughtily behind her as she turned, Regina strode away from the house, tendrils of her dress flowing like raven's feathers. Elizabeth pushed the door shut with her foot and it gave a satisfying slam.

"I still haven't forgiven her for what she did when we were first engaged."

"Me neither," Jefferson muttered, the memory of it momentarily flitting into his mind. Pushing away the thought, he reached across and tucked back a loose hair that had fallen onto Elizabeth's forehead. "I'll just go get my hat: and we can find exactly what Rumplestiltskin wants with us both."


	39. Chapter 39

_'Considering how far along Elizabeth is, she certainly isn't slowing us down,'_ Jefferson thought, Elizabeth matching his hurried pace along the rough woodland terrain. Over the tips of the fir trees lined the road; the topmost turrets of Rumplestiltskin's castle were visible.

The feel of Elizabeth's hand brushing his brought Jefferson's eyes downwards as he glanced across at her. In between her ragged exhaling, Elizabeth's lips curved into a gentle smile. A surge of reassurance momentarily filled Jefferson's thoughts: yet he could not shake the wariness that increased with every step towards the castle.

Since trading his life as a penniless orphan for the Dark one's most valued portal jumper and thief, Jefferson had seen exactly what Rumplestiltskin was capable of. For the most part, he'd remained on the 'good' side of Rumplestiltskin by doing exactly as instructed. Any mistakes and he'd suffered. But now with Elizabeth, and two children on the way, Jefferson was coming to the realisation that Rumplestiltskin suddenly had considerable leverage over him. Jefferson was no longer untouchable: no longer the self-centred man he had been only a year earlier.

He remained on edge all the way to the castle. Elizabeth had tried talking to Jefferson, though her words washed over him. Sensing that Jefferson's mind would not be put to ease until they met with Rumplestiltskin, she soon fell silent. The quiet between them was punctuated only by the occasional movement in the undergrowth and the cawing as a flock of crows passed overhead.

They reached the walls of the castle, the gnarled garden twisting around the path that lead up to the porch. As Jefferson stepped onto the first stone step, Elizabeth's hand tugged upon his, forcing him to stop and turn around.

"Jefferson, there's no need to be so nervous. We don't even know what he wants of us: he may just want to discuss working arrangements for after I've given birth," Elizabeth's voice was resolute, though the apprehension in her eyes gave her away.

Giving his hand a squeeze, Elizabeth gave the colossal front doors a push. Jefferson placed his free hand onto the wood, slightly above hers. The door eased open.

Sat at the head of the dining table was Rumplestiltskin. The throne-like chair that he sat at was pushed back and his crossed legs were outstretched, resting upon the table. Upon seeing Elizabeth enter, followed immediately by Jefferson, his feet slid onto the ground.

"Jefferson, Elizabeth; I've been waiting on you. I trust that you received the message that Regina passed on?"

"Yes," Jefferson watched as Rumplestiltskin grinned, beckoning to them.

"Come, come, its rather draughty by the door, I'll get a fire going," With a snap of his fingers, the fireplace lit up with flames, immediately warming the room.

Jefferson took a cautious step forward. He kept his eyes on his employer, his fingers wound around Elizabeth's, _her body close beside his. For some reason Jefferson was suddenly reminded of a strategy game he'd seen played in a few realms, in which pieces were moved along a board with only a set number of moves. _

_Every move had to be calculated._

It took only a few seconds for them to walk down the hallway and draw close to the fire, but to Jefferson it felt like a millennium.

"Now, down to business," Rumplestiltskin announced, his serious tone almost masking his gleeful excitement.

Jefferson stood opposite him, his mind conflicted. '_What on earth are you and Elizabeth doing?' Staring danger, in the form of the Dark One, straight in the face? Get out!_' Yet Elizabeth's words reminded Jefferson of how he could merely be overly cautious: he still didn't know what Rumplestiltskin wanted of them.

"I need you to fetch an item," Rumplestiltskin said, rotating his wrist airily as he explained, "I would have asked you to get it this morning- only it most definitely requires your assistant."

"Why would that be?" Elizabeth asked.

"It is of utmost importance that this item is retrieved safely. There are very few tree saplings remaining that wield such exceptional growth."

"A tree sapling?" Jefferson repeated, "I can get that myself!"

"Ordinarily, yes" Sighing, Rumplestiltskin drew a deep breath as though considering his choice of words, "But as I said, this tree sapling has the capabilities to grow incredibly quickly and is growing rare. I cannot risk you failing me. Alone, you may not secure the sapling: but together, you two are quite unstoppable."

His grin widened as he glanced from Jefferson to Elizabeth before turning to the dying fire and tapping at the wood with a poker. "Now, this species of tree are found only in Andalasia-"

"I haven't said that we're going yet."

At Jefferson's words, Rumplestiltskin sharply turned on his heel and fixed him with a steely glare, the poker still grasped tightly between his scaled fingers. "What is there to disagree about?"

"Elizabeth doesn't need to come with me," Jefferson said, each syllable reverberating off the walls in the silence, though his voice remained firm, "I can get a tree sapling myself."

Sensing the danger, Elizabeth hand reached up and caught Jefferson's elbow. "Jefferson," She intervened, "I don't mind going with you. If this tree sapling is so important, surely it's better to increase our chances of getting it?"

"I'd listen to your assistant…and fiancée," Rumplestiltskin said, glancing down at Elizabeth, an impish grin flickering upon his features, "I'm sure that you don't want to risk the fate of the kingdom, and your family, over this?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jefferson demanded, ignoring the reprimanding look that Elizabeth shot him.

"I can't tell you everything dearie: that'd ruin the surprises," Rumplestiltskin's gave a slight giggle, though his voice was cold as he added in an undertone, "Besides, you cannot refuse the terms- do you not recall the deal that you made?"

"What deal?"

"The deal that you made with me: in order to gain an evening off so to free Elizabeth from her marriage to a vampire?" Rumplestiltskin reminded, "You agreed that you would do a certain task for me, no matter how dangerous or life threatening."

"It's Andalasia: hardly dangerous or life threatening," Jefferson scoffed, attempting bravado. But he could feel the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach: the same dread that he'd felt when Rumplestiltskin had caught him trying to steal from his cloak all those years ago.

There was no way out.

No way to refuse.

Not when Jefferson considered who Rumplestiltskin could hurt if he gave the wrong answer.

Rumplestiltskin had quirked an eyebrow, awaiting Jefferson's full response. Elizabeth's hand had slipped down to take his, and her grip tightened the longer he paused.

"I suppose it won't take us too long to get the tree sapling then," Jefferson conceded, glancing down at Elizabeth to see her relieved expression.

Unable to mask his satisfied smirk, Rumplestiltskin gave a curt nod before waving them away with a rotation of his wrist. "Excellent. Bring the sapling straight to me once you're done."

* * *

"Jefferson, where are we going?" Elizabeth called as they walked back through the woodland, "Because we've been past the ridge that you usually toss the hat down."

Stopping, Jefferson turned to face Elizabeth. Seeing the exhaustion upon her face only confirmed his decision. "You are going back home- I'm going to get this tree sapling alone."

Elizabeth's brow furrowed as she looked up at him in confusion, "You just told Rumplestiltskin that we were both going?"

"Yes, well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him," Jefferson replied briskly, ignoring Elizabeth's outcry.

"Of course Rumplestiltskin will know if you go alone. You made a deal: you agreed that you'd do exactly as he said!"

"Look," Jefferson placed a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, "I won't be long, and it is better that you stay at home rather than portal-jumping."

"I am so sick of everyone else telling me what the best thing for me is!" Elizabeth snapped, her cheeks flushing with anger as she roughly pushed off his hand, "I'm the only person who can decide: and I think that I should go with you."

Suddenly, fingertips flashed before his eyes. Before Jefferson could respond or try to stop her, Elizabeth had snatched the hat from his head, vanishing into the purple haze. Cursing under his breath, Jefferson darted after her and leapt through the portal.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Jefferson yelled across the hall at Elizabeth, who had stormed over to the blue door of Andalasia. Elizabeth had her back to the door, arms folded tightly over her chest as she watched him approach. Her words were sharp and crisp, "You made a deal. You have to keep it."

Too infuriated to be able to resist arguing, Jefferson countered, "If you don't like other people telling you what to do- why are you doing that to me?" Elizabeth glowered at him, her lips pressed into a tight line.

"Let's just get this sapling from Andalasia."

"Fine by me," Aware of how childish he sounded; Jefferson turned his face from hers and pushed on the door that Elizabeth was stood beside. The door swung open with more force than he'd intended, but it was the sight of the realm before him that stopped Jefferson in his tracks.

_'I can't even remember the last time we went here…' _He thought, '_this place makes Wonderland look sane.' _

"We haven't got all day you know," Elizabeth muttered derisively, prompting Jefferson to step through the doorway with a sullen sigh. "Oh, Andalasia," Elizabeth continued, her voice purposefully slow as she took in the rolling hills that seemed to be impossibly green in animation, and the sunshine that was almost blindingly bright. Jefferson heard the slight snigger as she added with an unabashed delight, "You can't stand this realm, can you?"

Jefferson didn't reply. Instead, he continued walking, the grass swishing harmoniously in the idyllic breeze that drifted down the valley. Elizabeth followed, remaining several paces behind him. Taking out his compass, Jefferson watched as the needle spun wildly before landing on North. Forcing his eyes to look up at the brilliant blue sky, Jefferson scanned the horizon for any sign of woodland.

To the west, the sky was almost as black as night around a castle. It didn't take much to guess that an evil Queen resided there. In the north, the valleys descended towards colossal mountains, the tops tipped with snow. Somewhere in those mountains, Jefferson suspected, was a passageway to Arendelle. His eyes landed on the east of Andalasia, where an animated version of the woodlands of the Enchanted Forest lay.

"I think the sapling will be in those woods."

"Great, let's go then," Elizabeth said, cutting in front of him and storming ahead.

They walked through the fields in silence: not the quiet apprehension of approaching Rumplestiltskin's castle but a silence clouded with unspoken irritation. As he walked, Jefferson's own anger began to fade, replaced with a desire to break the stifling quiet between them. But Elizabeth kept her distance, wandering into the moss covered woods. Their silence was broken only by rumbling of trolls and the excited chatter of the animals that passed by, until Jefferson spoke up, "Elizabeth?"

"Leave me alone."

Unsure of whether she was referring to him or the twittering bird that had attempted to land on her shoulder, Jefferson didn't continue. With no idea how long they had been walking or how much further they had to go, Jefferson assumed that Elizabeth had given up when she suddenly halted.

Instead, she stepped backwards by three paces, eyes trained upon something deep into the woods. Without any explanation, Elizabeth stepped off the cobbled path and began to make her way between the lumbering trees towards whatever she had seen.

All Jefferson could do was follow, listening intently for any indication of trolls. Recalling how the forests of Andalasia frequented many trolls, Jefferson quickened his pace to try and catch up with Elizabeth. As they ventured deeper into the woodland, the ground gave a sudden tremor.

Elizabeth's foot slipped on the uneven scattering of rocks. With a jolt she stumbled forward. Before her scream could leave her lips, Jefferson's arms were around her sides, keeping her from the edge. Catching his breath, Jefferson glanced down at the gorge that Elizabeth would have fallen into. Between the vibrations that pulsated through the forest, Jefferson staggered to a nearby tree, an arm wrapped around Elizabeth.

His back hit the tree trunk, Elizabeth pressed to him as he held her whilst the footsteps of the troll slowly passed by. Elizabeth's eyes trailed upwards, her chest rising and falling against his. The intensity of her glare softened, her lips quivering slightly as she searched for what to say. "I thought that you were far behind me," She breathed, voice stiff.

"I wasn't about to let you fall," Jefferson said lowly, sensing that she was thanking him, even if her stubborn pride forbade her from saying the words.

With a grateful flicker of a smile, Elizabeth continued, her tone growing confessional, "I'm sorry for getting mad at you earlier. It's just..." Her words were cut short as another tremor ricocheted across the ground, though Jefferson could feel her moist breath tickle his skin as she repeated, "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you: as long as you will forgive me for shouting at you?"

"I do," Elizabeth murmured the tension in her body fading. She shifted her arms so that they were no longer held awkwardly by her sides but wound around his waist. The troll's footsteps were fading away and once the ground beneath their feet had stopped vibrating, Elizabeth tilted her head to look over her shoulder. "Is that the sapling?"

Jefferson looked past her to where a ray of light was shining amongst the trees. There was a small clearing, in the centre of which was a small sapling, its shoots raised to the sunlight. Despite its size, miniature branches were already emerging from the thick stem.

"I think it is," Jefferson said, feeling a grin forming, "You know, I would never have found it without you!" He placed a kiss upon Elizabeth's neck, just beneath her ear. Caught unawares, she swatted him away, though a soft laugh escaped her lips.

"We can celebrate later, let's just get hold of the sapling first," Elizabeth placed a hand to her abdomen, taking a sharp breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing: just contractions. I think the shaking of the ground has set them off. I'm fine; I've had them all this week."

Her words of reassurance only sent a pang of guilt through Jefferson as he realised how little time he had actually been spending with Elizabeth over the past few months. He knew what contractions were from Elizabeth's previous check-up with Victor: but he couldn't remember ever being with her whilst Elizabeth had experienced them.

"You stay here, I'll get the sapling."

Elizabeth nodded, and Jefferson approached the clearing, carefully stepping through the bracken that wound along the path. He entered between two of the trees that guarded the grassy expanse, footsteps light.

Crouching down, Jefferson slid out his dagger from a back pocket before bringing it to the thick stem. With his knife pressed to the plant, Jefferson hesitated, suddenly recalling when he and Elizabeth had planted flowers the previous autumn. She had shown him how best to plant the tiny flowers, with their straggly white roots. Without those, the plant would die.

Placing the dagger on the ground beside him, Jefferson dug his fingers into the rich soil that surrounded the sapling. The sapling came away with ease when he grasped the stem, its roots dangling in the sunshine. Slipping the sapling into his satchel, Jefferson rose, turning to check on Elizabeth. She was only a few yards away, and he could see the lines of pain etched onto her face.

"You're not fine," Jefferson called, almost breaking into a run to reach her sooner.

"I am," Elizabeth said weakly, "They've practically stopped now." She gingerly straightened up from resting against the tree trunk, a hand still clasped to her swollen abdomen. Eyes never wavering from looking straight at Jefferson, she took a few paces towards him. "See, I'm fine."

Jefferson remained unconvinced, though he knew that the sooner they got back home, the better. Rather than press the matter further, he began to walk with Elizabeth towards the fields. Try as she might, Elizabeth could no longer match Jefferson's pace.

Although Jefferson didn't mind slowing, the need to get Elizabeth out of Andalasia was growing increasingly urgent to him. The sound of her footsteps beside him had faded, and Jefferson looked back over her shoulder to see that Elizabeth had halted, face contorted with pain. Elizabeth opened her mouth to apologise, but Jefferson spoke first, "Your contractions aren't supposed to last this long, are they?"

Elizabeth swallowed before shaking her head, as though she couldn't trust herself to speak.

"Sit down for a moment," Jefferson walked back over to her and guided her to a ledge carved into the ground by a huge root. Elizabeth hesitantly lowered herself, rubbing the small of her back as she sat down.

Crouching down before her so that their faces were level, Jefferson cupped her blanched cheeks with his hands. "Is there anything you need: a drink of water, tea, anything? I can get it for you." He asked, unsteady voice rising.

"Jefferson, stop panicking, please. I just need to see a doctor, I need Victor..." Elizabeth's voice grew shaky, her words choked as though she was on the verge of tears. She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment as another contraction took hold.

Jefferson counted the seconds, his heart thudding faster and faster. After almost a minute, Elizabeth's eyes snapped open again. Her dark eyes stood out against her paled skin, searching him for some relief from the fear that lined her face.

"I think I'm going into labour."


	40. Chapter 40

The change from colour to black and white was somewhat startling: almost dizzying, to watch everything slip into monochrome as the swirl of magic faded around them. But Jefferson hardly noticed. His only concern was for Elizabeth, whom had turned even paler in the Land without colour. To his relief, the fairy dust had lived up to its use of 'emergency only' and brought them straight to the doorstep of the Frankenstein castle. Jefferson wasn't sure that Elizabeth would have been able to walk through the woods. She leant heavily against him, his arm enclosed around her back; as it had been since he'd scattered the fairy dust around them in Andalasia.

Elizabeth's weary sigh roused him from his thoughts. Although they were sheltered from the drizzle by the castle's porch, the stone didn't keep out the cold wind that howled around them.

"Hurry up Victor," Jefferson muttered, pounding his white knuckles against the door once again. The wood gave a creak, almost splintering under the force, yet there was only silence from inside of the castle. At long last were the sound of footsteps and the sliding of bolts, until the door swung open. Igor stood opposite them, the tails of his lab coat fluttering behind him.

"Jefferson," Igor nodded, his voice yielding nor like or dislike. He glanced down at Elizabeth, his years of being a butler unable to hide his own concern at the sight of her, "and Miss Elizabeth. This is a rather unexpected surprise."

"I need to see-"

"Victor. Right away Miss," Igor said, having already tugged off his lab coat. He turned and hurried down the hallway to the laboratory.

A few seconds later, his figure reappeared at the other end of the hallway, Victor following, his ire evident as his voice echoed along the hall. "Contractions, that's all. She's not due for another two weeks!"

"Then how do you explain the fact that my waters broke in Andalasia?" Elizabeth called to Victor, straining for her voice to be heard.

"What do you mean, 'in Andalasia'?" Victor said, "You two are still portal-jumping: this late in Elizabeth's pregnancy?"

"No, we had to-" Jefferson began, struggling for the word under Victor's fierce gaze. "You see,"

"Rumplestiltskin," Elizabeth finished.

Victor nodded, though he had little time to comprehend as another contraction surged through Elizabeth. For a moment she was rendered immobile, her rising and falling chest the only part of her body that moved, her hands pressed to her abdomen.

Suddenly realising the urgency of the situation, Victor beckoned them in. He sharply ordered Igor to clear the laboratory before ushering Elizabeth down the hallway. Jefferson remained by her side, never letting go of his hold around her whilst they walked. The cloud-filled sky darkened the windows. Raindrops drummed down, filling the silence of the hushed hallway.

A brilliant white light shone at the end of the hallway from the laboratory door. With Victor holding the door open, Jefferson slowly led Elizabeth down the steps. He had bounded down them so many times; it was only now that Jefferson noticed just how steep the steps actually were. Reaching the bottom, Elizabeth gave a grateful smile to Jefferson and her brother.

Upon entering, Jefferson caught sight of the chaos that was Victor's laboratory mid-experiment. The light that had streamed through the window was fading away as clouds masked the windows at the top of the walls. There was an eerie chill to the room, the metal machinery making it seem even colder. Bubbles gracefully rose inside the water tanks as the machinery ground to a halt.

Equipment was strewn across the laboratory, glinting silver in the light. At the operating table was Igor, who hastily folded up the white sheet upon the table as they entered. Lugging the sheet behind him, Igor inclined his head in agreement at Victor's instruction to bring clean towels and bed sheets. Staring at the long shape inside of the white sheet, Elizabeth's pupils widened as she realised its contents.

"Was that a dead body?"

"I was in the middle of something," Victor said shortly, running one hand through his hair as he brushed away some of the equipment with the other.

"Well I didn't exactly choose to go into labour right now!" Elizabeth snapped, with more strength than she spoken with all day.

Jefferson watched as both pairs of eyes swivelled to look at him, as though to place the blame upon him.

"How is it my fault?" He glanced down at Elizabeth, "It's not like you didn't enjoy it at the time."

Elizabeth couldn't hide the soft glow that flushed her cheeks, and her stifled laugh hardly denied his words. Before Victor could comment, Igor reappeared in the laboratory, clutching several white towels, sheets over one arm.

He passed Jefferson and Elizabeth, placing the towels down at the end of the operating table before stretching out one of the sheets over the table. "Do you need me to send a telegraph to town for a midwife?"

"Oh no, Victor's going to be doing it," Elizabeth said, "Aren't you?"

"If that's what you wish Elizabeth; though I'm sure there's still time to fetch a midwife," Victor said, pulling out several thick books from the shelves that ran along the back wall. The books landed on the desk with a thud, and Victor began to flick through the first one. Without looking up, he continued to speak to Elizabeth, "Could you get up onto the operating table please?"

"I don't want a midwife," Elizabeth said as she clambered up onto the operating table with Jefferson's help. "You know that you're the only person in the medical profession that I trust."

Victor's head jerked up. He sighed, as though the matter had been raised many times. "Elizabeth, those doctors did everything they could for our mother. The fact that they couldn't save her doesn't make them any less of a doctor than I.

"No: you save lives. Most doctors just want to make as much money as possible."

Victor didn't reply; instead he turned his attention to Igor, whom had been silently waiting for further instructions. "Igor, could you light the gas lamps and then see to it that dinner is prepared? From what I've read, the labour could last several hours- and I'm certain that we will all be in need of some sustenance afterwards."

Once Igor had closed the laboratory door behind him, Victor flicked through the pages of one of the books, the dark ink visible under the glow of the gas lamp above the desk. Setting down the book so that it was open halfway, he then got up from the desk and adjusted each of the gas lamps. Light flooded down, focused upon the operating table, leaving the corners of the room shrouded by shadows.

Elizabeth had already begun to hitch up her skirts, her breathing gentle: as if she could convince herself that it was merely another check-up. The spare sheet had been lifted over her knees, covering the bottom half of the operating table where Victor was stood.

"How long have you been having contractions Elizabeth?"

"I don't know. I had some this morning, but they weren't as bad as they are now. It was really once we were in Andalasia that the contractions got worse…" Elizabeth said shakily, her pale fingers trembling upon the table.

Jefferson placed his hand on top of hers, gently tracing along the back of her hand with his thumb. He looked across at Victor. "Why do you ask?"

"Because she's almost fully dilated: another few hours and Elizabeth could start pushing."

"It seems our children are rather eager," Elizabeth rested her free hand upon her abdomen; "I guess they want to see the realms for themselves."

Jefferson felt Elizabeth's knuckles suddenly tense beneath the palm of his hand, digging into his skin. Elizabeth's smile contorted into a grimace. "I hate these contractions."

"Well you've still got at least an hour or so. Then you've got give birth. Twice-"

"Not helping Victor," Elizabeth muttered through gritted teeth. After a few minutes, her features relaxed and Elizabeth gave a sigh. She lifted her head back so that she could look up at Jefferson. "Could you get me some books from the library? I could do with something to distract me for the time being."

"Do you have any preferences?"

A slow smile spread across Elizabeth's lips. "You know which books I like."

"Wait, isn't the library locked?" Victor asked.

"I borrowed the key from father's study about three years ago and didn't return it," Elizabeth explained, looking back up at Jefferson once again, "The key's in the first drawer of my bedside cabinet."

"I'll be right back," Jefferson kissed Elizabeth's forehead, smirking to himself as he caught Victor's expression out of the corner of his eye.

Prising his hand from hers, he went back up the steps of the laboratory. Jefferson paused by the door and whirled around, leaning over the rigid banister. "So it's the most detailed anatomical scientific book that you want me to get?"

"Just hurry up!" Elizabeth called back, her laughter preventing her from sounding angry.

"I'm going, I'm going…" Stepping through the door, Jefferson hurried up to the ground floor and up the central staircase to the first floor. With only a central window along the landing, the dark walls made the passageway seem even bleaker. Each of the wooden doors looked identical, and it took a moment for Jefferson to remember which one lead to Elizabeth's bedroom.

Turning the handle, Jefferson stepped into Elizabeth's bedroom, bright light streaming into his face. The curtains had been pulled back, and the windows wide open to let in as much of the sunshine, that peeped through the clouds, as possible. Shielding his eyes with a hand, Jefferson turned to away from the sunshine and lowered his hand. In the light, the white linen glowed; neatly set upon the bed, which no-one had slept in for months.

Jefferson walked towards bed side cabinet, his footsteps slow as he gazed around the bedroom. Memories from nine months ago flickered in his mind: gently circling around the room in a waltz; her body against his, her lips upon his- waking up beside her on the morning of her wedding. It had been one night of serenity, an illicit act of love.

_'Nine months ago, I had no idea that I'd be stood in Elizabeth's room once more, about to become a father,'_ Jefferson thought, suddenly conscious that Elizabeth was waiting for him. He tugged on the handle of the cabinet, the scent of lavender drifting out of the topmost drawer. Jefferson took out the brass key, closing his fingers around it.

Taking one last look around Elizabeth's room, Jefferson pulled the door hut and strode straight to the end of the hallway. Jefferson knew that the door to library was the final one: they had been right by the window as the lightning had lit up the hallway when he had first kissed Elizabeth. The key slotted into the keyhole with ease, the click breaking the silence that surrounded Jefferson.

Inside, the library was just as dusty as Jefferson recalled, the endless bookshelves that lined the walls covered by a misty film. Wandering through the labyrinth of shelves, Jefferson soon found the desk that they had read upon, between the two shelves of children's books. His fingers trailed along the spines of the books, some more worn than others. Picking out a few of Elizabeth's favourites, Jefferson gathered them into his arms.

* * *

"What have I missed?" Jefferson said, pushing the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe. He staggered down the steps to the laboratory itself, arms bound by the books that he clutched.

"Nothing much: just Victor boring me to death with a scientifically explicit description of childbirth."

"I thought that if you knew what to expect, it wouldn't seem to be quite so painful," Victor reasoned, though Elizabeth shook her head vigorously.

"No. All you've done is made me really not want to give birth."

Reaching the operating table, Jefferson set the books down. Elizabeth tilted her head, her face lighting up as her eyes scanned along the spines of the books. "You got Alice in Wonderland!"

Jefferson nodded, sitting down beside her in the chair that had appeared during his excursion.

"Will you read it to me?"

"I haven't read aloud in months, I'll probably mis-read something..." Jefferson said, glancing over at Victor. He had moved back to his desk, and was studying a scientific journal, but Jefferson was aware that he could still hear them.

"Doesn't matter: I know this story so well, I can correct you if you go wrong," Elizabeth said.

"Alright then," Taking the book from the small mountain of books, Jefferson turned the cover and first few pages until he reached the poem that introduced the story.

Elizabeth had lain back into the pillow, her eyes fluttering shut. She smiled serenely, lips softly uttering the words along with him as he began to read.

* * *

"'Take off your hat,' the King said to the Hatter. 'It isn't mine,' said the Hatter-"

"'Stolen!'" Elizabeth cried, bursting into peals of laughter with Jefferson; who had grown use to her interruptions.

As his laughter subsided, Jefferson gave a mock sigh of irritation as he scanned down the page. "I've lost my place now!"

"Perhaps you should finish there," Victor said, his chair scraping on the floor as he stood up from the desk and approached the other end of the operating table.

"Why?" Elizabeth demanded, almost whining.

"It's been almost two hours that I've had to put up with you two re-enacting Alice in Wonderland-"

"It's not much of a tea party with just water," Elizabeth cut in, before raising her tea cup and taking a gulp.

"And in that time," Victor continued, "You've become fully dilated. You'll be going into the actual birthing now."

Elizabeth's smile faltered. She stared across at Victor, her breathing becoming unsteady. "Wait, what? I'm not ready! I can't do this…"

"I'm afraid your body disagrees. You've got about a minute to prepare before the next set of contractions occur and you begin pushing."

"Condescending jerk," Elizabeth uttered with a scowl, "He thinks that he knows everything from reading a scientific journal."

"I heard that Elizabeth."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort, though her lips snapped shut as the contractions coursed through her. Setting down the book on his lap, Jefferson reached out for Elizabeth's hand. Her trembling fingers wound around his, chest rising and falling slowly as she momentarily rested.

"How long will this take?"

"About a few hours," Victor replied and Elizabeth groaned, resting her head back into the pillow.

* * *

"I can't. I can't," Elizabeth panted, "I can't push anymore."

Wincing slightly, Jefferson tried to flex his stiff fingers, though Elizabeth's grip was bone crushing. Instead he placed his other hand on top of her clenched knuckles. In as rousing tone as possible, he said, "Since when did you give up so easily?"

"You're almost there Elizabeth," Victor continued encouragingly, "the head's crowned. All the baby needs is one last push on the next contraction."

"It's all very well for you two," Elizabeth hissed, her scowl intensifying as her body arched slightly, "You're not the one who's actually giving-"

Her words were cut short by the groan that escaped her lips. Jefferson too exhaled sharply; her grasp around his fingers had grown impossibly tighter. Breathing heavily, Elizabeth's eyes closed, though the crease on her forehead relaxed as she settled into the sheets.

"Our first child," Jefferson said, finally able to free his fingers and caress Elizabeth's arm. Elizabeth gave a gentle smile, exhaling deeply.

"Are they a boy or girl Victor?" She called, leaning forward slightly.

Jefferson moved his arm to rest upon her upper back, Elizabeth straining to see over the sheets to where Victor was stood, cradling a small bundle encased in a towel. Victor didn't reply, and Elizabeth leant further forward still.

"Are they a boy or a girl Victor?" She repeated, her voice now trembling as she gazed at the baby that was held in her brother's arms.

From the other end of the operating table, all Jefferson could see was the white of the towel; Victor's hoarse words were barely audible, "I'm sorry. Your son, he's-"

"Let me hold him. Please," Her shaking hands reached out, and Victor carefully lowered the baby into Elizabeth's arms.

"What's wrong?" Jefferson asked, his hand rising to Elizabeth's shoulder as he leant into her curled up body.

From between the layers of the blood-stained towel, Jefferson finally laid eyes upon his son. There was a tiny smile upon the infant's face, the hint of a cleft matching his. With his eyelids shut, there was something angelic about the baby; as though he was merely sleeping.

"My baby," Elizabeth moaned plaintively, pulling the baby close to her chest as she gently rocked the child in her arms, "My Oliver."

It was only a word.

But hearing their son's name made Jefferson's chest wrench, as though a knife had been lodged inside of him and twisted sharply. The thrill at the prospect of their first child had dissipated, replaced by an aching hollowness.

He could feel Elizabeth's jagged shoulder blade shuddering; every sob cutting into his body. All Jefferson could do was to slowly stroke her hair. With a whimper, Elizabeth turned so that her head fell to his neck, her tears stinging as they hit his skin. Jefferson didn't know how long he held Elizabeth, but gradually her gasps began to steady, the trickle of tear drops slowing. But still she remained, as motionless as the child wrapped in her arms.

"It hurts," Elizabeth said, words muffled by his body.

"I know," Jefferson soothed, though Elizabeth jerked away him, shaking her head.

"No, no. It hurts," Her hands sank down to her abdomen. Bending double, Elizabeth retched, a rasping sound filling the air.

Jefferson was by her in an instant, his hands upon her shoulders as he helped Elizabeth lower herself back into the sheets.

"Here, give her something to drink," Victor handed Jefferson one of the tea cups, freshly filled with water.

Elizabeth still clutched her son, and Jefferson could see from the pained look in her eyes that she wasn't about to give him up. He brought the cup to her lips, and Elizabeth obediently took a sip. Against her pallid skin, the white china cup seemed even brighter beneath the harsh glare of the lamps. Elizabeth hurriedly gulped down the liquid as her body trembled.

"You're going into labour again Elizabeth," Victor said.

She shook her head, voice thick from the tears that stumbled down her cheeks, "No-I don't want to. Not again. Not if she's born-"

"Don't," Jefferson interrupted, lowering the tea cup and tilting her chin with his finger so that Elizabeth was looking at him, "Don't say it. You don't know for certain. You have to try."

Elizabeth frowned, knowing that he was right. She averted her gaze to look down at her son, placing her lips to his forehead.

"It'll be easier this time Elizabeth," Victor said, taking his place at the end of the operating table.

Elizabeth inhaled, though her features suddenly contorted. Crying out, her fingers snaked around Jefferson's wrist, grabbing hold of him.

"It's alright, I'm here," He said, running his hand through her hair in an attempt to comfort her.

"I can't push," Elizabeth mumbled, between short gasps for air.

"You've managed it once already: this time won't be so bad, I promise."

"No, this is different...It hurts so much," There was a pleading ache to her words, the exhaustion that lined her face convincing him without a second's hesitation.

"Victor, I don't think that Elizabeth should do this; she's in pain. She doesn't look well."

"Caesarean, tell him to do a caesarean," Elizabeth murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

"Couldn't you do a caesarean?"

Victor rose from his crouched position, and stood for a moment, considering. He sighed deeply before approaching them, looking from Jefferson to Elizabeth.

"You do realise that a caesarean section is only supposed to be done to save the child if-"

"Yes, I'm aware," Elizabeth said resolutely, despite her laboured breath. "Please Victor, there's no other way."

Victor remained silent for a moment, gaze fixed upon his sister. "Alright: I'll get my equipment."

"Are you okay? You look incredibly pale." Jefferson asked Elizabeth, her eyes following Victor as he rummaged around in various cupboards to the sides of the laboratory.

She nodded weakly, fingers running along the veins of his arm. "I love you."

"I love you too," Jefferson smiled and continued, "Just think, in a few months, we'll be getting married. You'll be wearing that wedding dress…"

"And you'll be in a proper suit. I'm not having you in leather trousers," Elizabeth said, managing a slight giggle.

"You should probably wait outside Jefferson," Victor called, approaching the operating table once more, with various surgical objects in hand.

"He's staying."

"Yes, I'm staying," Jefferson agreed.

"Very well, although you may wish to look away," Victor pulled back the sheet that covered Elizabeth's body, exposing the side of her abdomen.

The scalpel drew close to her skin, and Jefferson lowered his head at the sound of Elizabeth's whimper as the instrument cut into her. He placed his hand on top of Elizabeth's, his fingers brushing the baby in her arms.

"It'll be over soon. I promise," He whispered. Both Jefferson and Elizabeth waited, neither daring to breathe too loudly as a hush fell over the laboratory. Only the scrape of metal sounded.

'_Gods, please let our daughter be alive'_ Jefferson thought, gazing down at his son, unable to tear his eyes away.

A soft mewling cry tugged Jefferson from his thoughts, and he turned his head in the direction of the noise. There, held a little uncertainly in Victor's arms, was a tiny baby. "You have a daughter," he announced, and Elizabeth gave a relieved sigh, craning her neck forwards to see over the sheets. All that was visible was the baby's face, her flushed cheeks as red as the blood that speckled her forehead. Her plump lips quavered, doe eyes gazing up at her parents.

"Can I...?" Jefferson's voice came out hoarsely, but Victor understood and gave a nod, carefully passing the baby to Jefferson.

Jefferson cradled the blankets that contained his daughter, his arms naturally curving around her miniature body. Staring down at his daughter, a slow smile spread across Jefferson's lips as an ineffable sense of unadulterated love for her swept over him.

"Someone's going to be a daddy's girl, I see," Elizabeth said, as she reached out and tenderly traced a forefinger down her daughter's cheek.

Keeping his gaze upon their daughter, he pressed his lips to Elizabeth's ear. "She has your eyes."

Elizabeth's aching expression faded as she beamed.

"Have you two managed to decide on a name?" Victor's voice broke the spell that their daughter had cast upon the pair, "When you were here a few weeks ago you were saying either Jane or Grace?"

"I think that she looks like a Grace," Jefferson said.

Elizabeth gave a nod of agreement, "Grace is perfect."

"Perhaps you ought to take her Elizabeth. New-borns need their mothers as well as their father," Victor said, his gaze trailing down to the baby in her arms. "I'll take Oliver. I think it would be best to bury him as soon as possible."

Elizabeth glanced across at Jefferson, whom inclined his head in agreement. Reproachfully, Elizabeth tentatively raised the baby and placed him into Victor's hands.

"Thank you. It won't take long,' Victor sighed and added grimly, "I've had far too much experience digging graves."

Neither replied; Jefferson focused upon Grace, keeping his eye level away from anyone but his daughter's. Gently tickling Grace's cheek, he smiled to himself as she gave a slight giggle. He heard Victor's footsteps fade as they rose up the staircase. As the door closed, there was a soft moan; the only sound that Elizabeth had made since Victor had taken the child.

"We still have Grace."

Elizabeth remained staring straight ahead, tears trickling down her face. "It was only supposed to be me," Her laboured breathing quickened as Elizabeth bolted upright. Coughing violently, she clasped her hands over her mouth.

"What do you mean?" Watching helplessly, panicked thoughts scattered around his head as her implications dawned upon him, "You've made a deal with Rumplestiltskin, haven't you?"

The tight knot in the pit of his stomach relaxed slightly as Elizabeth shook her head.

"I changed yours," she said, words choked between her subsiding coughs.

Jefferson stared at her, far too many questions for him to voice coming to mind. Before he could say a word, his attention was caught at the sight of the dark stains upon Elizabeth's palms as she lowered her hands from her face.

"Victor!" Jefferson hollered, Elizabeth beginning to cough again. In his arms, Grace writhed restlessly, crying feebly. "Victor!"

"I did it to protect our children," Swallowing hard, Elizabeth lay back in the sheets. Only now did Jefferson notice the beads of perspiration that lined her forehead and the slight trembling of her body.

"I can't lose you too," Blinking back the droplets forming in the corners of his eyes, Jefferson rested Grace against his chest, one arm curved around her. He placed his free hand upon Elizabeth's cheek.

Elizabeth winced at his touch. Despite the clammy feel of her skin, Jefferson could feel the scalding heat upon his own skin. Pulling his hand away, Jefferson jerked his head up at the sound of footsteps. Down the stairs came Victor, taking the steps two at a time.

"I should have known that something was wrong as soon as you asked for that caesarean," reaching the bottom of the staircase, Victor strode straight over to Elizabeth, shaking his head. He grabbed one of the spare hand towels and poured the cup of the water onto it. Exhaling slowly, Victor dabbed at her forehead with the cloth. "Your temperature is so high, I don't understand- an infection couldn't have set in this quickly."

"Magic," Elizabeth murmured.

"But there must be something that I can do," Victor said, his usually calm voice filled with desperation as he wrung out the cloth, "Even if I can't save you now, then I could bring you back from the-"

"No. Victor, you can't. Not if it makes me like Gerhadt," Her eyes flitted across to Jefferson, whom was on the other side of the operating table, "I want you both to remember me as I am now."

"Goddammit Elizabeth!" The harshness of Victor's voice made Elizabeth jump, though he was too incensed to notice, fists shaking by his sides, "I didn't become a doctor just to watch all the people that I love die!" He paused, his voice softening at her anguished expression, "I'm sorry. For everything: all I ever wanted was your happiness…though I know that it didn't always seem that way. I just- I can't watch you die. But I suppose that you two would like a moment alone?"

"Yes," A glimmer of a grin played upon Elizabeth's bloodied lips, and for a moment she looked rather like her old self, "I'd make out with my fiancé on this operating table-if I didn't feel like death warmed up."

Raising his eyebrows, Victor shook his head slightly, as though to hide his small smile. "Goodbye dear sister."

"You know how much I hate saying goodbyes Victor; makes everything sound so final."

"I know…" Victor looked across at Jefferson and added stiffly, "I'll be waiting outside."

"Could you take Grace with you?" Jefferson asked, leaning forward in his seat as Victor nodded and took the child into his arms.

Casting one last glance at Elizabeth, Victor turned away and made for the staircase. As he climbed the stairs, Elizabeth began to cough again, and Victor quickened his pace; the laboratory door slamming behind him. Jefferson reached out and gently peeled away a stray hair that had stuck to Elizabeth's forehead, his other hand settling onto her back as she continued to cough. For a moment he feared that she would cough hard enough to make herself sick, but Elizabeth managed to swallow.

"Promise me?" She whispered, her throat raw from coughing," Promise me that you'll make sure that Grace knows how much I love her, and how sorry I am that I can't...I can't be with her?"

"I promise," Jefferson's fingers trailed down her face to cup her locked jaw, Elizabeth shivering at his touch.

He glanced down as she felt something cold brush against his skin and Jefferson gave hint of a smile as her fingers wound around his; nimbly slotting into place as though they had never been parted. The sharp edge from the onyx stone of her engagement ring cut into the palm of his hand, and with it, a realisation. "We're supposed to get married!" Jefferson's throat constricted, the words coming out in a choked rush, "And raises Grace, travel the realms, grow old together. It's not meant to be like this!"

"I'm sorry."

Warm beads of perspiration and damp tears brushed onto Jefferson's skin and he shook his head. "No, it's not your fault. But I can't lose you...Elizabeth? Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth's eyelids flickered at his voice and her glazed eyes opened, flickering with at the sight of him. Her bloodied lips parted, the crease in her brow furrowing as her erratic breathing began to slow.

"No matter what, I'll always be with you…"

"Elizabeth!"

Her body had stilled; dark pupils lacklustre. She seemed to fade away in the starched sheets, outlined by the dark tendrils of hair that framed her. Her fingers fell limply from around his, landing on the table with a heavy thud. In that moment of desperation, Jefferson recalled the rumours that he'd heard whispered across the realms, of a magic powerful enough to break any curse and transcend any realm: true love.

Without a second's hesitation, Jefferson leant over her body and pressed his lips to hers.

An electrifying chill rippled through him. Not daring to open his eyes, Jefferson tilted his head so that his forehead pressed against hers. The sheen upon her skin was now icy cold, a metallic taste upon his lips from her blood. Attempting to swallow the lump in his throat, Jefferson cradled her body to his, the sound of his lone heartbeat pounding in his ears.

* * *

**A/N: Apologies for such a delayed update. This chapter has once of the most difficult for me to write, and I wanted to make sure it was a good as it possibly could be. I still have the epilogue to upload: and then possibly a sequel...**


	41. Chapter 41

All that Jefferson could see was a white light, its brightness consuming his sight. His fingers reached out, caressing a soft material beneath him. The light began to fade as he blinked, shadows creeping into the corners of his eyes, until the room was revealed to him: Elizabeth's bedroom.

Jefferson rolled over in the bed, expecting to see the sleeping figure of Elizabeth beside him, dark curls splayed out onto the pillow. But there was nobody next to him. A shiver ran down his spine as the chill of the cold sheets rushed up his fingertips.

Roughly pushing off the duvet, Jefferson sat upright. His breath stung in his lungs and the room grew clouded around him. Something damp ran down his cheek and Jefferson brushed away the tear with the back of his hand. More tears streaked down his face, each breath ragged from his sobs.

Pushing himself off the bed, his feet landed upon the floor with a thud, though Jefferson hardly registering the sensation. He had risen too quickly, and the bedroom whirled around in his blurry vision. Almost dragging his legs, which felt rather heavy, he staggered over to the dresser by the window. In the morning light, Jefferson's reflection stared straight back at him in the gleam of the mirror.

He hardly recognised himself. Usually his tailored clothing, with their lavish detailing, gave the appearance of a well-kept man. His reflection was the complete opposite.

'_I look like I'm from this realm'_ Jefferson thought, gazing at himself. The paleness of his cheeks was only accentuated by the dark circles beneath his eyes, tinged with the eyeliner. He was wearing the clothes from the day before and the material clung to his skin, having grown creased during the night, hair matted from relentless tossing and turning. Jefferson gave a pathetic hiccup, finally managing to regain control of his breathing. His fingers reached up to his lips, and in the time it took for him to realise what the dark stain was, fresh tears began to slip down his cheeks. Snapshot memories replayed in his mind, painfully vivid.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and Jefferson sighed with relief at the distraction.

"Are you awake?" A voice called.

_'Victor. It's too early to speak to him…' _Jefferson made a non-committal noise in response, and the door creaked open.

Victor's head emerged from between the door and its frame. When he saw the empty bed, Victor stepped inside, and Jefferson forced his aching body to turn and face him.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

"No," Jefferson began, his voice grating against his throat like gravel. He tried to swallow, but his tongue was dry and the words came out rasping, "I tried- I just couldn't."

In an attempt to drive away his lingering thoughts, Jefferson focused upon Victor, noting how he too appeared to be just as exhausted. "You didn't sleep much either?"

Victor shook his head. "I wanted to make sure Grace was alright. I didn't think it would to fair to you to look after her last night," A slow smile spread across his lips as he added, "She's very sweet, I have to admit. And you were right: Grace does have her mother's eyes."

"Where's Grace now?"

"She's in the kitchen; Igor's keeping an eye on her. He's fairly experienced with small children, he's been butler to my family for a long time. We were just about to have breakfast, which was why I came to see if you were up."

"I'm not really hungry. I could do with a cup of tea though."

"I'll bring it up for you," Victor nodded towards Jefferson's hand that was clutching the dresser for support, "You look too tired to be clambering up and down stairs: you need to rest. I know it's difficult, but just try to sleep."

"Thanks."

Once the door had swung shut, Jefferson made his way back towards the bed. His legs ached with the effort, and Jefferson collapsed onto the duvet, embraced by the soft sheets.

Elizabeth's sweet scent had stained the fabric, enveloping his senses so that the smell was tangible in his mouth. Mixed with his breath, it rapidly dissolved into a sour taste upon his tongue. Coughing, Jefferson rolled over, the back of his head sinking into the pillow. He closed his eyes, the bright bedroom vanishing into darkness.

A wave of fatigue swept over him. For a moment, Jefferson felt himself begin to be lured into a slumber. But Elizabeth's scent hadn't faded, if anything, it was heightened by his loss of sight.

He could feel her touch, gently brushing along his skin, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. Her lips were upon his ear lobe, her voice whispering the words that had echoed in his mind all night long, *italics* "No matter what, I'll always be with you..." Each syllable was drawn out, a soft lullaby, and they slowly changed into his name, growing quieter with each repetition.

"No, Elizabeth," Jefferson murmured. Her pale, motionless body flashed in his mind as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder.

"She's gone Jefferson."

His eyelids snapped open at the sound of Victor's voice. Jefferson gasped for air, his heart racing. He stared up at Victor, whom was stood over him, concern lining his solemn expression.

"I've brought you a drink."

From the corner of his eye, Jefferson could see the cup of tea that had appeared upon the bedside cabinet. Sitting upright, he reached out and took the cup into his hands; the warmth from the china seeping into his skin. Jefferson took a gulp of tea, not caring that it scorched his throat. He looked back up at Victor and saw whom he held.

"Grace."

"I think she was missing you, so I brought her up with me," Victor explained, slowly sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Swallowing down the last of the tea, Jefferson placed the cup back onto the cabinet and Victor passed the baby to him. Grace's face seemed to light up at the sight of her father, her dark eyes shining up at him.

A tiny hand protruded from the blanket that Grace was now wrapped in, and her forefinger curled around Jefferson's thumb. The gesture took away the ache of losing Elizabeth and their son, replacing it with affection for the baby in his arms.

"I promise that I'll never, ever do anything to hurt you Grace," Jefferson told her, holding Grace to his chest so that her head rested on his heart.

Grace merely smiled up at him, her rosy cheeks plump. In an instant Jefferson was reminded of her brother. The dull sensation inside of him began to return, though it burnt more fiercely as Jefferson's thoughts were consumed with memories of the stillborn baby.

_'He didn't even get a chance to open his eyes._'

His head began to pound as the sound of Victor speaking interspersed with his thoughts.

"...You and Grace can stay as long as you need. I've managed to get hold of some milk, though we don't really have any clothes for her-"

"I need my hat," Jefferson interrupted. His words were a low growl, despite having quenched his thirst. "Where is it?"

"It's in the laboratory, with your coat," Victor looked across at Jefferson, sounding confused, "But why would you need it?"

"I need to leave. Grace too."

"Jefferson, I really don't think that you're in the right frame of mind to be going anywhere. You're not going to be making rational decisions: you've been awake for almost forty-eight hours, you've just lost the woman that you love, as well as your son."

"Exactly: that's why I need to leave," Jefferson rose from the bed, Grace murmuring at the sudden movement.

Victor stood up, though Jefferson was already heading towards the door. "Jefferson, you're not making any sense. Please, just stay a few days, get some rest, and give Elizabeth and Oliver a proper funeral."

Jefferson froze in the doorway and whirled around. "They shouldn't even be dead! Our son was never even alive! And Elizabeth was only eighteen. They didn't deserve to die." Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Jefferson muttered, "My price of magic."

"What do you mean?" Victor said, stepping towards Jefferson, who in turn stepped out into the hallway.

"She changed the deal," Jefferson said, more to himself than Victor, "And who made her?"

Jefferson had now reached the staircase. Cocooning Grace in his arms, Jefferson started downstairs. Each step sent a jolt through his body, his legs hurriedly tugging him down the stairs.

"Whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it," Victor called, as he followed behind, his voice just loud enough for Jefferson hear. Each word was emphasised: as though to express the severity of the situation. Jefferson was suddenly stopped as a hand grabbed his elbow, and Victor turned him around so that they were facing one another. "Do you understand?"

"I won't be returning Victor," Jefferson said, his locked jaw loosening as he grinned. The anger in his eyes only made his expression seem more maniacal. "I have to go. Rumplestiltskin is expecting me."

* * *

The swirl of magic faded around him, leaving Jefferson to stare around at the woodland. It had only been a day, but the colour filled world seemed to be different without her. The beauty had vanished, the flowers curled up in the weak sunshine, darkening storm clouds hovering in the corners of the sky. A cool wind rippled through the trees, and Jefferson tucked his coat around Grace. Her dark eyes darted around, taking in the sight of the realm that she would call home.

As he walked, Jefferson wondered what the world would seem like to his daughter, whether her infant mind had recognised the sudden change into colour; whether when she grew older, she would see the beauty in the colours, the way that her mother had.

Jefferson's forehead creased a ray of sunlight suddenly flashing in his eyes, Elizabeth consuming his thoughts. He lost all sense of direction, any sense of the world around him, though his feet knew precisely where to take him.

Reaching the castle that he had arrived at all too many times, Jefferson halted before the door. Slightly self-conscious, he ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to give Rumplestiltskin the satisfaction of seeing how unkempt he had become. With Grace held tightly between his arm and chest, Jefferson pushed at the door with all his might. His lack of sleep left him weakened, and the door creaked open slowly.

Stepping inside, Jefferson yelled through the gap, "Rumplestiltskin!"  
The door slowly eased shut behind him, and Jefferson gazed around the empty hallway.  
"Rumplestiltskin!"

There was no reply. All that Jefferson could hear were his heavy breaths, heart pounding in his chest. Suddenly, the potions door began to open.

"There really is no need to yell," Called Regina, appearing in the hallway, "What would Elizabeth say if she heard you?"

Regina's teasing smile faltered under Jefferson's gaze, her lips parting as she looked him over and caught sight of the child that he cradled.

"Elizabeth's given birth? But I thought you were expecting twins?"

Jefferson didn't reply, though Regina gave him little chance, as she continued, "Where is Elizabeth?"

"She's with our son."

Before Regina could question him further, another voice cut in.

"Don't you have a potion to be working on Regina?"

Both of their heads turned to look to end of the hallway, where Rumplestiltskin was stood.

"Well I-"

"The answer to that is yes," Rumplestiltskin said briskly, "Now leave us."

Regina glanced from her mentor back to Jefferson, sensing the tension between the two. She gave a curt nod and retreated to the potions room. Neither Jefferson nor Rumplestiltskin spoke until the door had closed behind Regina, and Rumplestiltskin arched an eyebrow enquiringly. "You have the tree sapling?"

Jefferson wanted to say yes, but the word stuck in his throat. Instead, he placed a hand into his satchel in confirmation.

_'How the hell can he go straight to business?_' Jefferson thought disgustedly, fingers clenching around the sapling. _'Because he doesn't care,_' His thoughts answered, as he slammed the sapling down onto the table.

"Excellent," Rumplestiltskin murmured, ignoring Jefferson's silence. He gave an airy flick of his wrist as he moved to examine the sapling, the sliding of locks across the doors sounding. Taking the sapling into his hand, Rumplestiltskin turned his back on Jefferson and wandered over to the cabinets at the far end of the hall.

"You killed her," Jefferson said, unable to bear the burden of words any longer.

There was a plinking noise as the sapling hit the bottom of a vial.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Rumplestiltskin said, without even a hint of sincerity, without even glancing back at Jefferson.

"I loved her," Jefferson took a slow step towards Rumplestiltskin. His free hand lay by his side, shaking with each step, his voice growing louder, "You killed her: and our son. He didn't even get to open his eyes!"

Finally, Rumplestiltskin turned to face him. The chill in the air would have been enough to make Jefferson's blood run cold, had it not been for the rage that burnt inside of him, and he continued towards Rumplestiltskin.

"The death of your son was not my doing," Rumplestiltskin replied, his words clipped and dangerously low, "Some things are out of even my control. As for Elizabeth, it was her decision to make such a noble but foolish sacrifice. She was fully aware the consequences when she altered the deal."

"She didn't have to die!"

Rumplestiltskin didn't even flinch at the sudden yell, his scaled features remaining devoid of any emotion. "Someone had to pay the price dearie. It was your price of magic. That's what fuelling your anger: your guilty conscience. You might blame me, but really, you know that this is your entire fault."

Unable to avoid the bait, Jefferson felt the flames inside of him roar, and he stepped even closer towards Rumplestiltskin. "Shut up," He hissed, "or I will kill you, I swear to every god that there is-"

"Do it then."

Jefferson's lips paused upon the unfinished threat as he stared at Rumplestiltskin. In the minuscule gap between them, a dagger had begun to materialise.

"You have always been a man of your word," Rumplestiltskin stated, "Take your revenge."

Jefferson grabbed the dagger.

His fingers wound around the hilt. But before his emotions could take hold, a bleating cry disturbed his thoughts. Grace had awoken in his arms, and her cries stopped him in his tracks.

The dagger clattered onto the floor.

Moving his arm to create a protective barrier around Grace, Jefferson gently caressed her cheek, wiping away the tear that was trickling down her cheek. "I can't let my daughter's first memory be of me becoming the next Dark One."

Jefferson's eyes trailed upwards as he felt Rumplestiltskin's gaze boring into him. "If revenge isn't what you seek, then what are you here for?"

A ghost of a smile crept across Jefferson's lips. "I'm here to quit. My price of magic has been paid. The deal is fulfilled: I'm no longer bound to work for you. Elizabeth's sacrifice was noble, but it wasn't foolish at all."

Rumplestiltskin continued to stare at him for a moment, before his eyes lit up devilishly. "I suppose if you're quitting then I can take back what is mine," His fingers snapped, and bags of gold began to appear on either side of the table; five years' worth of service.

"That's my money- I earned that!"

"Earn it?" Rumplestiltskin echoed with a sneer, "You're a thief; you've never earned a penny. And you no longer have any business here. Now leave."

"But...but how I am supposed to raise my daughter with no money?" Jefferson protested, though Rumplestiltskin merely waved away his words.

"You'll raise her in the poverty that you grew up in. I won't ask you again. Leave."

Swallowing back his indignation, Jefferson gave the most theatrical bow that he could whilst holding onto Grace. He smirked up at Rumplestiltskin, voice filled with derision, "With pleasure."

Jefferson straightened up, trying not to think of Rumplestiltskin's taunts as he turned his back upon his ex-employer, attempting to keep his emotions under control. He made it to the bottom of the steps, the door slamming shut behind him, before Jefferson slumped down against the stone pillar.

'_I've lost everything: Elizabeth, Oliver, my job, my money, my lifestyle. It's all gone.'_

"Jefferson?"

Folding one leg over the other, in an attempt to appear as though he had intended to end up slumped on the ground; Jefferson raised his head in the direction of Regina's voice. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to say-" Regina paused as she rounded the corner of the castle and came into view. "Get up," She said firmly, approaching him.

"That's it? You wanted to tell me get up?" Jefferson quipped, growing sullen as he added, "I can stay here if I want. It's not like I have anywhere else to go. I have no money-so I can't keep my house. The woman that I love is dead, as is our son. Oh, and I just quit my job."

"So you're just going to wallow in your own self-pity on the edge of the Dark One's porch?"

Jefferson scowled up at Regina, before begrudgingly rising. He didn't even attempt to brush off the dust that covered his clothing.

"I've lost everything. Don't you think that I'm allowed to feel slightly sorry for myself?"

"No. You don't get to focus on yourself. You don't get to give up," Regina nodded down at Grace, "She has nobody but you. There's nobody else to give her the undivided attention that children crave. If you only think of yourself, you'll lose her too."

"You think that I'm that pathetic?" Jefferson growled, riled by her words, "You think that I'd let anyone take her from me? That'd I let her grow up in the hell that I grew up in: penniless and alone? I'm never going to abandon her, never going to hurt her; she's my daughter!"

"I know," Regina said softly, almost soothing. "Which means that you'll spend this wisely?" She suddenly produced a small pouch, filled with the rounded bulges of golden coins.

"I don't want your charity."

"But I insist," Regina said, equally as forceful. Sighing, Regina breathed slowly before continuing, her voice taking on a frank tone, "What I wanted to say was that I had no idea what Rumplestiltskin had intended for Elizabeth. I'm sorry about Elizabeth, and your son. I meant it: I know what it's like to lose someone you love. But you lost a child too…"

In that brief moment between the pair, Jefferson saw past the 'Evil Queen' that Regina had grown to become over the past few months. He saw the vulnerability that she had learnt to shield: the grief, the hope, and yearning for freedom that she had once been so full of. Back then, he'd thought that her desire to resurrect a stable boy was ludicrous; that he would never know the sadness behind her eyes. But now Jefferson understood.

He took the pouch from her, slipping it into the side pocket of his jacket. The look that she had given him had struck something inside of him, yet it was her words that lingered, a memory of his trip to her castle flitting into his head.

"I'd never thought much of that potion that you were making when I visited. You hate your husband to the point that you'd give up your own desires just so that you won't bear his child?"

"Just go," Was Regina's response, her voice empty once more. "And hope that you never have to see Rumplestiltskin or me again."

The hand that had taken the money went up to the brim of his hat, and Jefferson tipped his hat to her with a nod before slowly walking away; past the iron gates that marked the boundary of Rumplestiltskin's castle. Grace had fallen asleep in his arms, and she didn't stir all whilst he walked through the forest. The anger that had fuelled him vanished the second he dropped the dagger; now Jefferson walked in a daze. There was only one place left for him: home.

All was silent in the woodlands, allowing his thoughts to fester, taunting him with each step. The gold felt heavy in his pocket.

Eventually Jefferson reached the village that his house overlooked. It was a market day, and the streets were bustling with people braving the fresh, but cold, spring air. Nobody seemed to notice him, and Jefferson was content with that.

The lively chatter drove his thoughts away, but his head had begun to pound, and Grace had awoken. Her feeble cries slowly ascended into wails. People turned around to look, and Jefferson bowed his head, keen to avoid their judgemental stares. He tried to shush Grace, but she kept crying. Feeling a flush burning his cheeks, Jefferson quickened his pace, nearing the outskirts of the village centre.

Suddenly, Jefferson was forced to look up as he felt his body slam into something: a worn, cornflower yellow coat. The person that he had walked into whipped their head around, a look of frustration upon her features.

"I'm sorry," Jefferson muttered. The woman's face softened as she glanced up at him, taking in his expression before looking down at Grace, whose crying had finally begun to subside.

"It's alright, I can see that you're in a hurry," She gestured towards the hill, "Do you live up upon the hill?"

"Yes…" Jefferson began with a frown.

"Oh, I thought so! You must be Jefferson, Elizabeth's fiancé? How is she?"

"Yes, I- how do you know Elizabeth?"

"She used to come into the village once or twice a week, just to pick up some food or get some fresh air. We got talking; I know that she was expecting to give birth soon."

"Yes, she gave birth yesterday but she-"Jefferson swallowed, the word lodged in his throat. The woman seemed to understand, giving him a sympathetic smile and placing a hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry. Elizabeth was a wonderful person. Your child looks just like her," She reached out and softly brushed a finger along Grace's cheek, her face brightening as Grace gave a hiccup.

"Her name's Grace."

"That's a lovely name," The woman seemed to snap out of her reverie as the first few raindrops fell from the sky, "Well; I'll let you get back home. I'm Sara, by the way. My husband and I live just down the lane, if you ever needed anything, then you're more than welcome to pop by."

"Thank you," Jefferson said, a little uncertain of what else to say. The drizzle was beginning to thicken, and Sara gave him another kindly smile before setting off down the muddy track into the fast-disappearing crowd.

Tucking Grace back into his coat, Jefferson hurried towards the hill. His feet sunk into the grassy pathway as he climbed, though the bitter rain spurred him on, and Jefferson was soon approaching the place he'd been calling home.

As he reached the front porch, Jefferson noticed that the flowers Elizabeth had planted the previous autumn were now beginning to bloom, flashes of purple and yellow popping up amongst the grass. His limbs heavy from lack of sleep and the water that clung to him, Jefferson slowly pushed open the front door.

But as soon as he stepped inside, Jefferson wished that he could be back outside, where the rain could wash away any trace of Elizabeth. Inside, the humid air made his lungs tighten, air that tinged with smoke and too many memories of Elizabeth. Ignoring the sensation as best he could, Jefferson discarded his leather coat on the banister and took Grace upstairs.

A stair creaked beneath his foot, and Jefferson became aware of how painfully quiet the house was without Elizabeth, though every millimetre seemed to breathe with her invisible presence. He passed one door, then another. Each time, a miniscule part of him couldn't help but hope that Elizabeth would suddenly appear; that this was all some nightmarish fantasy. The knowledge that she was gone only hurt more at the thought, and he pressed on, reaching the nursery.

Just like the rest of the house, it was as though Elizabeth had never left. Her matted paint streaks covered the walls, the children's books that she'd picked out lined the bookshelf, her gentle laughter filling the room. As he gazed around, Jefferson knew that even if he had the money to keep the property, he would still have to sell it.

He lowered Grace into the cot that was closest to the window, wrapping her up in the knitted blanket, before going over to the wooden chest by the bookshelf. Inside were several stuffed toys and Jefferson searched through them for a moment, trying not to think of the stories behind why he and Elizabeth had chosen each one. He settled for the tortoise, with its gleaming button eyes and mottled green fabric.

Jefferson set the toy down in the cot beside Grace, who curled her body into the stuffed tortoise in approval. She made a slight noise of content before drifting into a slumber, having exhausted herself from crying. Lingering over her for a moment, Jefferson outstretched an arm and finished tucking the blanket around her, before wandering out of the nursery. A wave of fatigue washed over him, and before Jefferson could stop himself, he had crossed the hallway to his bedroom: their bedroom.

The door swung open, but Jefferson didn't step over the threshold. His fingers scrabbled to grasp the doorframe to support himself as he stared at the box upon the bed. After all that had happened, the box and its contents had completely slipped his mind; only to come flooding back.

'_"It's beautiful," Elizabeth breathed. _

_"I'm afraid that you'll have to wait until you can try it on as I gave the dressmaker the measurements of one of your old dresses, seeing we're not getting married until October." _

_"Its fine, I can wait: I'm sure that it'll fit perfectly," Elizabeth's smile wavered slightly, and in an instant the gleam in her eyes seemed to fade. She set the dress down onto the bed, her hand quickly brushing against her cheek, leaving a shining streak. _

_"What's wrong?" _

_"Nothing…" Elizabeth murmured, more tears trickling down her face, "I just…I don't tell you enough how much I love you."'_

It all made sense to Jefferson now: the real reason for her tears, the words she had spoken, the kiss: their final kiss.

He suddenly felt his breath catch in his chest, his throat tightening. The ache for sleep had faded, replaced by the instinctive urge that he had to get out. His vision blurred, Jefferson stumbled back out into the hallway, feeling just as overwhelmed as he had been in the Land without colour.

Jefferson came to a halt with a jerk, as his foot missed the last step, and he landed upon the ground floor. The only two rooms were the kitchen or living room, both with far too many memories of Elizabeth. But the latter was closest, so Jefferson made his way into the living room. Papers were still scattered across the floor, as though Elizabeth had left them momentarily, about to return. Jefferson only managed a few steps before sinking to the floor, legs as stiff as lead.

His right knee landed on one of the papers, and he grasped the creamy corner, lifting the sheet up to his eye level. Elizabeth's cursive handwriting filled the page, re-telling their first trip to Wonderland on the evening of her birthday. Jefferson grabbed a few more the papers, devouring her every word. Each recounted a different realm, a different adventure.

Once he had read one page, he took hold of another until Jefferson held the entire manuscript in his trembling hands. Furtively, Jefferson tore through pages until he reached the final one. Her writing trailed away into the blank sheet. The reminder that Elizabeth would never finish the story; their story, hit him.

With a start, Jefferson dropped the manuscript, its emptiness stinging like a sharp flame. The sheets fell apart, fluttering to the floor around him. His breath was choked into stifled sobs. Outside, the rain lashed down, the sky dark with stormy clouds, casting a shadowed glow across the living room.

Although Jefferson knew that if he were to look after Grace, he couldn't give in to the hollowness inside of him. But the ache grew, the longing for Elizabeth too strong to resist. He let himself cave in, no longer supressing the sobs that ricocheted through him.


	42. Pt 1 epilogue

His feet pounding against the undergrowth, Jefferson tore through the forest, heart thumping in his chest. He bounded over a stray twig, clambering up onto a ledge formed from thick tree roots. Even from the slight distance, Jefferson can hear the sound of her soft giggles, believing to have won.

Smirking to himself, Jefferson slowly steps towards the tree, careful to avoid any stepping on any branches. Reaching the tree, Jefferson placed his back against the trunk before gingerly twisting his body around the trunk so that he can see a flash of brown hair tucked beneath an oversized hood.

"Found you!"

The cloaked girl jumped at the words, and she whipped around to face him, a few mushrooms almost falling out of the basket she held.

"You scared me Papa!" She reprimanded, only staying annoyed at him for a second before a smile crept onto her face.

"I'm sorry, Gracie. You know, I almost wouldn't have found you, if you weren't giggling so much," Jefferson reached out and placed his forefinger beneath her chin, brushing against her skin so that Grace giggled again, wriggling away from him.

"I can't help it!" She laughed, a rosy glow forming upon her cheeks, "I just think of you being so close by, and not being able to find me. Can we have a re-match? I won't giggle this time, I promise!"

"How about one final round, to decide who the hide and seek champion is?"

Grace gave an exuberant nod before clasping her hands over her eyes, "Twenty, nineteen, eighteen…"

"No peeking!" Jefferson called as he began to back away, Grace's fingers snapping back together as she continued to count down.

Casting a quick glance around the expanse of forest, Jefferson took four steps towards the track that lead back to the village. Every time they played hide and seek, Grace would find places to hide that were further and further into the woods. He wasn't sure if she even realised, but he could understand her longing to escape into the woodland; into a world where the wind wasn't harsh but a rush of adrenaline, a world of magic and endless adventures. Although he knew the woodland well, Jefferson was a little lost for a hiding place, Grace's countdown almost at an end.

"Six, five, four…"

Suddenly, Jefferson caught sight of an upturned log between the trees and he hurried towards it. He crouched down behind it, low enough to smell the musty scent of decomposing leaves upon the ground. The moss encrusted bark was pressing into his cheek, and Jefferson carefully shifted slightly, making sure to remain hidden from view.

"Ready or not: here I come!"

Leaves crunched beneath Grace's light footsteps, and Jefferson listened as she wandered through the forest. They'd agreed when they had first begun to play hide and seek that they would remain within calling distance of one another, and Grace knew by now it was unnecessary to stray too far into the woods to search.

Her breath, rapid with excitement, grew louder as she approached, dashing towards a nearby tree. From the corner of his eye, Jefferson watched her cloaked shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment at not finding him. She was close enough to spot him, but Grace was facing away, and Jefferson suddenly understand Grace's urge to laugh. Biting hard on his bottom lip, Jefferson held in his breath: he didn't want to make it too easy for her. Grace slowly turned on her heel, eyes scanning through the trees. Her gaze fell slightly, and she beamed down at Jefferson, eyes alight with victory.

"I've found you four times now," Grace's lips twisted at the corners as she added with an innocent, yet somewhat sly grin, "And you've only managed to find me three times, which means I win."

"Indeed, my little rabbit," Casting a glance up to the darkening sky, Jefferson outstretched a hand for Grace to take as he stood upright, "But we can't play any longer, it looks like it's about to rain. You keep hold of those mushrooms okay?"

"Okay," Grace's fingers interlocked with her father's, her skin soft against his own calloused skin. Her other hand clutched the wooden basket that swung against her side as they set off down the track. After a few hundred yards, the thicket of trees began to part, cottage roofs coming into view. But as they walked, the overcast clouds trailed behind them, a trickle of rain beginning.

Quickening their pace slightly, they soon reached the village, the rain having ascending into a thick drizzle. As they joined the path that lead through the cottages, Grace slipped her hand free and ran on ahead; she didn't mind the rain, sheltered by the hood of her cloak. But her shoes slid across the mud, and she almost fell, had it not been for Jefferson catching onto her the back of her cloak.

Upon arriving at their cottage at the end of the lane, Jefferson scooped up a bucket of water from the nearby well. The burst of rain was passing over, though a few droplets of rain splattered down into the bucket. Pulling on the rope that winched up the bucket, Jefferson waved to Sara and Tobias, whom were just leaving the cottage next door to his. Grace had also seen them, and was earnestly chatting to their neighbours.

"You two looked absolutely soaked!" Sara called to him as he neared them.

"We got caught out in the rain playing hide and seek, didn't we Grace?" Jefferson said, and Grace nodded as she took down the hood of her cloak.

"We've collected lots of mushrooms though!"

"That's great sweetheart," Sara said, smiling, "But I suppose you two best get inside and warm up."

"I just cut up some fresh logs this morning, if you wanted to borrow some for a fire?" Tobias offered.

"You don't mind?"

"So long as you promise not to sell the best of those mushrooms at the market," Tobias called back with a laugh as he over to the log store beside his house and took out three thick logs.

Jefferson took the logs from him, nodding appreciatively. "Thanks."

"It's not a problem, really," Sara replied, "We'll see at the market tomorrow."

As the neighbours set off down the lane, Jefferson set the bucket down, tucking the logs between his arm and chest. With his free hand, he slid across the front door's latch and the door slowly opened with a push from the toe of his shoe.

Grace set down the mushroom basket upon the rickety cabinet, slipping off her cloak, water dripping off the tendrils of her hair onto the straw flooring. Momentarily setting down the logs onto the ground, Jefferson took hold of the bucket once more as he closed the door behind them.

"Is it time for our tea party yet Papa?" Grace asked, already lingering by the toy box in anticipation.

Jefferson pushed back the cuff of his shirt and glanced at his watch that slid down his wrist. The glass face was chipped slightly, but the hands were still moving. It was slightly early, but Jefferson felt that they both were in need of warming up.

"It's always tea time, my little rabbit."

As he crossed the room to the fireplace with the logs and water, he could hear the hinges of the toy box creak open as Grace lifted the lid. Once he had arranged the wood and lit it with a match, Jefferson transferred the water into the silver kettle that rested above the flames, the clink of china sounding behind him. The warmth of the fire glowed against Jefferson's skin, and he immediately felt colder when he turned away and stood up, going to the table where Grace had begun to set out the tea things.

Being one of few remnants of Elizabeth that Jefferson had kept, it was dear to both him and Grace, and she carefully lifted each cup and saucer from the velvet cushioning. Even after years of use across the realms, none of the crockery showed any real signs of damage; aside from the rose pattern having faded ever so slightly.

Jefferson had only been seated a minute or so before the kettle gave an impatient whistle and he got up, bringing the boiled water over to the cups and pouring a little into their cups before sprinkling a few herbs into each. The water clouded, turning from colourless into the rich hue of tea.

Whilst Jefferson took a sip of the steaming tea, his gaze landed upon the trunk across the room, its lock keeping the contents safely out of Grace's grasp.

The hat had been another item that Jefferson had never parted with, though for entirely different reasons to Elizabeth's tea set. He knew it was safest in his hands, unused and untouched. Even though he'd firmly sworn never to use the hat again, Jefferson couldn't help but wonder what the realms were like, whether Victor truly had managed to resurrect the dead.

As for Regina and Rumplestiltskin, he cared little, but rumours of the Dark One's latest deals or the tyranny of the Evil Queen's rule were whispered by many villagers on market day. To most, their magic, their power, seemed fantastical. But Jefferson knew how real it could be.

Jefferson could faintly hear Grace's voice, though his mind was swimming with memories. He had allowed himself to focus on the past for too long, and the feel of the tea cup in his hands only brought back thoughts of Elizabeth.

"Papa?"

Grace's voice finally pulled him from his memories, and Jefferson's gaze flitted back across to her.

"Were you thinking of her again: of mama?" Grace asked, almost tentatively.

"Yes," A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he could see Grace frowning at the sadness behind the sound. Seeing her upset was far more pitiful than his emotions, and so Jefferson continued in a brighter tone, "I was thinking of a certain tea party in Wonderland that your mama and I had-"

"By the end of it she insisted that I was going to be called Treacle!" Finished Grace, giggling into her cup as she brought it to her lips, "Won't you tell me the story again, please?"

"I think you know it as well as I do!" Jefferson leant back in his seat slightly, picturing the papers in which Elizabeth had detailed their adventures. They were stored inside a drawer, but Jefferson didn't need them: he had told the stories so many times that they were embedded into his and Grace's memory.

He could see Elizabeth's cursive writing upon the paper, beginning each tale in the same way.

"Once upon a time..."

* * *

**A/N: The end! The past few months of writing this have been such a great experience, and I've loved writing it so much, reading your feedback and receiving emails saying someone has followed or add this story to their favourites.**

**As for the sequel, I'm currently undecided as to whether I will write one or not. This is mostly down to the fact that I am going to be very busy over the next few months, but also that I would like to focus upon my own original fiction.**

**Having said that, I am thinking of instead writing a prequel to this, which will focus upon Elizabeth growing up with the Frankenstein family; which is because I have kind of piqued my own interest with the references made throughout this story to Elizabeth and Victor's childhood. I felt it would be better to upload this as opposed to a sequel because the chapters will be more like individual one shots that will explain little details referenced to in this story. As updates will be incredibly slow, hopefully it will be easier to dip back into rather than a sequel with chapters that are directly linked. Let me know what you all think of the idea! :)**

**Finally, I do not take credit for naming the neighbours Sara and Tobias: the wonderful writer Lanthriel25 came up with those names, and they fitted so well that I also used them. If you enjoyed this little scene between Grace and Jefferson, you should have a read of Lanthriel25's work, as they have written several super sweet one shots about the pair.**


	43. Author's note

Although I 'completed' this back in January, I've noticed that over the last few months I seem to be getting several follows on this story, which is making me think that you're expecting there to be more?

Which has led me to think could there be more? I do feel as though there is still plenty to explore, particularly post-curse with Jefferson, Grace and Victor (note: I did try and do a sequel a while back but that got deleted due to a lack of planning of the actual plot.) Also, Elizabeth was really fun to write, and I would love to write more about her...

So now I have couple of ideas floating around in my head- at the moment I'm thinking of doing a second part to this, through Elizabeth's POV, possibly Victor's as well? There would be some pre-curse stuff, during the curse, then post-curse (S2 post curse not S3) with a bit of a re-working of the end of S2, plus a whole load of Frankenwolf and Swanfire. (Because I'm that one person who doesn't really like Captain Swan)

Let me know what you think-if you have any suggestions or improvements then they are more than welcome!

Finally, updates for this second part will be very slow, because I'm starting college in a fortnight and also have several other fanfics on the go!


	44. Pt 2: Chapter 1

_"Promise me?" Elizabeth whispered, the words grating against her throat. "Promise me that you'll make sure that Grace knows how much I love her, and how sorry I am that I can't...I can't be with her?"_

_"I promise," His fingers trailed down her face, and Elizabeth felt herself give an involuntary shiver. She slipped out her closest hand and took his, the nudge of the ring causing him to look down. The slight smile warmed her heart, but his choked outburst tore the warmth away. "We're supposed to get married! And raise Grace, travel the realms, grow old together. It's not meant to be like this!"_

_Elizabeth kept her gaze upon their entwined hands. She couldn't look him in the eye. Not with such agony in his voice. A hot flush had begun to creep up from her toes and she gulped as it swept through her._

_"I'm sorry." _

_Though her voice was barely audible, Elizabeth caught the shake of his head from the edge of her vision as her eyelids grew heavier. "No, it's not your fault. But I can't lose you...Elizabeth? Elizabeth!"_

_His desperation sparked a resolve in her, and Elizabeth willed the enclosing darkness to fade, even if for a moment so that she could see him one last time. Gaze flickering, she took in his every feature as her bloodied lips parted. She could feel her chest growing less cooperative, allowing her just enough oxygen to speak. "No matter what, I'll always be with you…"_

_The cracked yell of her name floated into her mind, though it was subdued, as though Elizabeth was hearing it from the other side of a tunnel._

_Then there was nothing but a sea of darkness. _

* * *

Light flooded in from far away, the brightness obscuring everything. Elizabeth found herself wincing, realising that in fact her eyes must be open. Around her, the light was beginning to fade, but not into darkness. A room was forming around her, colours beginning to seep into shapes, deep clarets and ochre. With a start, Elizabeth recognised where she was.

When she had considered death, she never would have supposed that the afterlife resembled the Dark One's castle.

_'Dear God, am in Hell?' _

A flash of green appeared beneath her eye, before a stinging sensation caused Elizabeth to recoil from the figure that came into view.

"Ow!" Her hand flew to her sore cheek, and Elizabeth found herself glaring into the gleaming eyes of Rumplestiltskin.

"Just putting some colour back into you, dearie."

Elizabeth stared around the hall, rubbing at her cheek. "Am I-am I alive?"

The Dark One gave a giggle. "Well if you were dead, this certainly wouldn't be heaven."

"You are alive," Came a low voice from behind her, one that Elizabeth did not recognise. She turned to see an unfamiliar old man in red robes. "For I have saved your life."

Unsure of quite what to say, Elizabeth felt she at least ought to be courteous. "Thank you for saving my life sir, I'm Elizabeth- though I suppose you know that already. But who are you?"

"I am the sorcerer's apprentice."

"Right," Elizbaeth wheeled around to face Rumplestiltskin again. "And what about the Jefferson's deal? I'm his price of magic."

Her gaze trailed after the Dark One as he circled around her, making a sweeping gesture to signify the old man. "The sorcerer's apprentice here countered your fiancé's deal. Jefferson only needs one child anyway."

Elizabeth barely spared a thought to the cryptic response, words flying from her lips to erase Rumplestiltskin's knowing smirk. "You killed my son instead of me? My son?"

Indeed, his faltered slightly, Elizabeth's gaze rapidly darting between from him to the sorcerer's apprentice as she spat vehemently, "You used my unborn son as a bargaining chip in a deal?"

The Dark One gave a shrug, and Elizabeth suspected that this was not the first time he had done such a thing, nor would it be the last.

"Unfortunately, yes," the sorcerer's apprentice said gravely, "for Rumplestiltskin is correct. You, however, are indispensable."

Elizabeth scoffed. "I suppose that means you have some use for me that I must agree to, as it appears everyone has been making deals that involve me, without my consent."

Rumplestiltskin smirked at that, but the sorcerer's apprentice continued impassively. "You have a talent for story-telling, and I'm in need of a new author."

"Author?"

"There are a few rules that you must abide by," Rumplestiltskin chipped in, "in accordance with this new deal. You are never to make contact with Jefferson or Grace. Regardless, you will try to at some point, and they will not be able to see or hear you. Nor can you visit your brother, as your work focuses solely upon those from this realm. To all who have ever known you, you are dead."

Elizabeth did not reply; her despondent sigh voicing all of her thoughts.

"That will be all. You may leave me now," The Dark One gave a flick of his wrist, and Elizabeth found that she and the sorcerer's apprentice were consumed in a whirlwind of magic. Within seconds, the castle had shifted into the forest.

"Are you going to explain this author business to me then?" She called after the sorcerer's apprentice, who had strode off into the trees with a beckoning motion of his hand.

The man glanced back at her. "Have you heard of a census before?"

"It's the recording of people's wealth," Elizabeth replied, recalling the word from pouring over the huge dictionaries in her mother's library. The remembrance caused an ache in her thumping chest and she halted: she would never be able to go in that library again, with those books that she and Jefferson had read together. Jefferson, Victor, Grace- she was lost from their lives forever.

A droplet trickled down her face and Elizabeth swallowed, gazing around the forest as she carried on walking to distract herself.

"The author writes something similar to a census for the people here. Except rather than record their wealth and property, everybody's lives, their 'stories', are recorded. It is an important job, especially for the times ahead."

Elizabeth waited for him to elaborate, and when he remained silent she huffed to herself, "Great, he's as cryptic as the Dark One."

"I'm afraid that is all that I may impart to you," The sorcerer's apprentice continued, his hearing better than Elizabeth had anticipated. "Now, there is only one more rule that you must be aware of, specific to this role. You may try and break the Dark One's rules, but it is vital you do not break this one. You must record the events that occur precisely- nothing can be changed. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"I cannot stress how important this is, Elizabeth. Nothing can be changed, no matter how much you wish to change things- and there will be events that you want to change. But keep to the rule, and you will be able to save those that you love."

"I understand," Elizabeth said, though she only had the faintest notion of what he meant; it would be several years before she fully understood.

Following behind him, Elizabeth tried to place their location. There were no signs of any villages in the distance or the rush of the river. In fact, the trees that loomed overhead were of a different species to the ones she recognised, and Elizabeth knew they were in an area she had never fully explored with Jefferson.

She increased her pace to catch up with the sorcerer's apprentice, thinking up more questions to occupy her mind.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to the last author?"

"Ah. There was a slight predicament, as he did not follow the rule, and was sufficiently punished."

"Okay...so do I get a book to write in? When I was writing the story for my children-child, it was on a bunch of papers, though I reckon you'll be more organised than that-" Elizabeth trailed away, the correction making her chest constrict and wither. There was a tapping against her upper thigh. Her hands were shaking.

"We have arrived."

Elizabeth looked up to find herself in a completely alien area of the forest, with a pleasant enough looking cottage before them.

"There are no other lodgings for several miles, so I suggest that you stay here with me. The accommodation should be satisfactory for you."

"It isn't as though I have anywhere else to go," Elizabeth murmured. Even if she could find a way back to her old house, wherever in forest that was, she did not like the thought of living as a literal ghost.

She followed the man inside, admittedly somewhat surprised to find the cottage was rather homely. A teapot was upon the stove, and with a snap of his fingers, flames leapt up and began to heat it. The furniture and decor was relatively simple, patterned carpet beneath their feet and stone bricked walls. Having toured the downstairs, Elizabeth clambered the wooden ladder up to the above floor. There were two beds at either side of the room, and by the lack of belongings around the one to the left, Elizabeth figured it had belonged to the last author.

"I suppose that you must be exhausted, after childbirth and near death."

Turning in a full circle as she examined the room, Elizabeth came to face the sorcerer's apprentice. In that instant she found herself indeed feeling rather exhausted, more by the overwhelming sense of loss than physical fatigue.

"Yes, I think I'll just try and get some sleep."

Nodding at her, the sorcerer lingered by the opening to the ladder. When he spoke, his low voice was compassionate. "I am sorry for your loss, but there as no other way. I'll bring you up a cup of tea."

With that, he retreated downstairs, whilst Elizabeth walked across to the neatly made bed. She lay upon it stiffly, head resting just above the pillow. The wooden rafters provided little distraction as she gazed up at them, her thoat growing thick and vision blurring. Elizabeth rolled over, feeling the sheets crumple around her as she lay on her side and hugged her knees to her. She could not stifle the sobs that overcame her, and once she began it became impossible to cease, the relentless mourning inside of her demanding to be released.

Some time later her muffled sobs were interrupted by the clink of china upon the beside cabinet, and when Elizabeth's gaze eventually focused she found a teacup and what looked rather like cucumber sandwiches. She devoured them, giving rasping hiccups in between each mouthful, before gulping down the lukewarm tea. Elizabeth bit down on her lower lip to suppress the urge to cry.

_'You're alive, at least. There's still a chance that you can reunite with Jefferson and Victor. And Grace. Oh, Grace. I can't lose hope, for her sake.' _

Imagining Grace, all swaddled in blankets, didn't pain her quite as much after that.

Elizabeth rested her head back into the damp pillow, and slowly sank into a dreamless slumber.


End file.
